Salt and Pepper
by Deltana
Summary: It is a place where children are stolen from their homes and their minds become broken. They are tools for war. Edward Elric should know, as his alternate personality, Pride, slowly takes him over. RoyEd AU fic.
1. Education

**_Education-_**

Some call me demon, some assassin and some even go so far to label me as a murderer. Those people, most likely akin to _you_, would be right.

I _am_ a beast and a criminal.

However, the occasional breaking and entering or stealing of desirable objects does not satisfy me.

I take thrill in pulling a rusty blade over a man's throat.

Guns are _pointless_; they merely pierce through the flesh, cleaving a path of death. And if I could shoot someone a hundred times in one minute, it would completely take away the rush. Knives, blades and swords are the ultimate path to take.

Right here we have the perfect specimen to exemplify what I am trying to say.

See how he quivers as the edge nears his temple?

It is human nature really.

Now sir, do you think of this same apprehension when you bring cattle to the slaughter?

_No_ you say?

There's no actual difference. A knife is a knife and a life is a life.

Are you a religious man- Dr. Hubert?

You _are_?

Well, that is positively excellent! You truly _are_ the perfect example.

What's that?

Oh, your wife and child are waiting for you. Don't worry man; you'll get to them soon.

Have some backbone while I explain to _this_ nice young student how the world works.

As I was saying, religion, does your humble god not teach you that it is wrong to kill?

It's different is it?

Ha ha ha!

Because you _eat_ a cow?

Well, Dr. Hubert, if I was to turn cannibal and suck the meat off your very bones, would that not be what you just described?

You're right man, it _is_ sick.

But that's life. And an educated person like yourself should know that already.

So sir, how much would _you_ value your life at?

What's the matter now?

Don't you preachers usually spout off some garbage about life being invaluable and that one does not equal another?

Well, you are just a card!

Though, I must admit that your time has run out.

(_Farewell_.)

Ah, and to _you_, once _you_ slit a man's throat, be aware of how the blood squirts.

(_Like Dr. Hubert's did_.)

The damn arteries are just _so_ hard to control. Especially the huge section on the neck.

(_A death valve_.)

Sprays out harder than a garden hose on high water pressure.

(_With no control_.)

It was easy, was it not?

Just a simple flick of my wrist and someone dies.

(_What power!_)

I've heard of junkies using drugs to try and get on a high, however, I never _really_ took to them.

(_I prefer using death_.)

It really is the ultimate thrill.

Hmm?

Don't be stupid, I'm not going to kill _you_.

And yes, _you_ can go now and tell _your_ little elementary friends what _you_ learned today.

* * *

Nobody ever caught him, he was _invincible._

This had been a part of his life for nearly six years. He loved every minute of it.

Kill a man; linger in the death, then leave.

Though he did resolve in his very early years to _never_ kill a woman or child.

It was like an addiction, one that was horrible and unstoppable. Nicotine affected him enough, but this lingering urge to kill others and bathe in the scent of his victim's cooling blood… it could not be tamed.

He quit school for it, lost his job for it, and even lost the most important person in his world for it.

Not that it wasn't his fault. That was something he accepted years ago, and yet, he could never find the strength to stop himself.

Although, there was one who didn't know what he did on his evenings. That person was the only one his lived for, without them he would have died long ago from the guilt.

With that knowledge he was hired by various businessmen, contracted to kill as a hired assassin.

He did his job silently. No one caught him; no one knew he was the guilty party.

And they never would, for he was _invincible._

* * *

The bar was quiet (for once) and held very few customers. A woman sang on top of a wooden table in the only presently crowded corner. Men cheered around her and he sneered at their animalistic desire. Lust was one thing. The sheer _need_ of these white necked business owners, the kind whom he usually made contracts with, disgusted him.

Besides, the woman, dressed in a sleazy dress with her chest nearly spilling out, was lowering herself to the magnitude of a prostitute.

He _almost_ felt some remorse for her situation.

But he was similar to her. People paid for his services, used him, and then threw him away. _That_ made him highly inclined to tell her to get out of such a despicable position while she still _had_ the chance. Because he sure as hell didn't.

Turning his attention away, he gazed through darkly colored sunglasses, in which his gaze was not even visible.

Rule number One: always dress in dark unnoticeable clothing.

Common sense to most, it was a harsh rule that left no room for bright, lively colors to illuminate one's life. Personally, he used to have a fascination with a _particular_ one. Ironically, as he entered this line of business, he graciously got to see that _same_ shade every single night. Disregarding holidays of course. Those days were saved and were nearly the only time he spent at home. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Stumbling to him with a crooked leg was a porker of a man and a generous bulge in his pants.

He knew what was located there.

Other than zeal of lustful hormones for the dancing female he left, lurked many bills.

So, was this another customer?

Two in one night, apparently he was in for _quite_ the cash load. All the better for him and his roommate.

If the money wasn't so profitable in what he did, he would have _quit_ years ago. Really. He just needed the cash to support another. He put himself behind them all of the time.

His glance fell to the dancer as she accepted a fifty dollar bill for a few extra shakes.

Well, could he really blame her? They were in the _exact_ same boat.

The man collapsed in the barstool next to him and ordered a scotch while elbowing him in the ribs.

"Say there, what do you do for a living?" The man, who looked to be near fifty, raised a sausage finger and flicked the end of the other's high ponytail. Golden locks, dulled by the neon lights above them swished before he turned away.

"I think you're mistaking me for someone else." He returned to fingering his switchblade with gloved fingers.

The man leaned closer to him. "No you don't understand. I want to get-" his mouth was an inch from the other's ear and whispered, "-_rid _of someone."

_This_ caught his attention.

Perhaps his original thoughts on the intentions of this man were correct.

"What did you say your name was?"

The man resigned back onto his own stool and smugly replied, "Park Bendley" as if it meant something.

"Well, Mr. Bendley. I'm sure you know that I'll listen o what you have to say after I see some collateral to your word."

He nodded and revealed a stack filled with twenty dollar bills.

The other smiled politely, "Please continue."

After all, this was his life. And it wasn't getting any prettier, only easier.

* * *

This just kept getting more interesting.

Apparently, he was to kill a meaningless man that seemed to be no threat to his current employer, or to anyone for that matter. In fact, he was so unimportant; that Mr. Bendley saw no need to reveal the man's name.

He had a feeling there was something "Mr. Bendley" neglected to tell him.

However, the man did supply him with a rather… generous amount. Was he not obliged to carry out the mission regardless?

"Hell yeah, even if it is midnight." He grumbled while stepping over a sleeping alley cat.

His roommate had told him to promise he would be home before ten. And that would have been entirely possible, it that man had never showed up.

But, and extra eight hundred dollars riding in his pocket told him to shut his mouth.

"This bastard had better be worth my time."

* * *

He was a simple man. Paid his dues to society, fed his cat, kept to the regulations laid out and quite literally pissed on queue from his superiors.

But, he refused to dub himself a suck-up. Granted he did desire to rise to the top, change all things wrong with the system and fix what he saw.

Too bad he currently stood at the corner of 51st Ave in a security guard's outfit, patrolling the streets on a night shift. The money was decent, but he sure as hell would have preferred to be back at his own station.

He used to be an actual _officer_, worked for the police station and brought in a large check while acquiring the respect he earned.

So much for that.

Some said he made a mistake, and that was why he was demoted to such a high degree. Some said he killed a man.

_He_ said he _saved_ a boy's life.

But damn, he hadn't seen that kid for… close to six years.

"Well, he probably wouldn't be a kid now…" He whispered as he strolled along down a back alleyway.

And if it was for _him_ he would gladly make the same mistake again and again and once again.

For some curious reason, back then, he felt a raw _need_ to protect the boy, even though his efforts were usually cursed at.

After all, he _was_ a bastard.

That desire hadn't gone away, even after all these years.

Imagine his surprise when a shadow crept up behind him and pressed a cool sharp edge to the front of his throat.

This guy was talented.

He tried to turn his head back to catch even a small glimpse of the one who likely held his life in his gloved hands. The blade rubbed the flesh harder and the skin lightly broke.

A smirk from the attacker glinted in the moonlight.

"None of that now. Wouldn't want you to hurt yourself."

His back stiffened at the light voice.

"I'm sure you know why you're here now. Someone wants you dead, and I'm the unlucky soul that has to kill you. Farewell, bastard."

The knife was knocked away by a smack of his arm. His elbow connected with the other in his nose and eyes, and he felt glass shatter onto his sleeve.

The other stumbled backwards, held his hands up, shakily ready to fight.

But as he turned back, he caught sight of broken sunglasses falling from the other's nose bridge and he nearly fainted.

He stepped forward and ignored the punch sent into his stomach. Instead, he focused on the gleaming golden eyes flashing violently at him.

"Edward?"

The other paused, then stared bewildered at his supposed victim's obsidian gaze.

"Mustang?"

Well, what a_ small _world.

* * *

_AN: So, it's a new idea I plan to fiddle with (if the intake on it is good.) _

_Comments would be liked, and I would especially like to know who guessed it was Edo speaking in the beginning._

_This **Disclaimer **serves for all possible chapters that may be written: I do not own FMA. _


	2. Reminiscence

**_Reminiscence-_**

"Make yourself at home," Mustang dryly commented while Ed flopped onto his sofa (without removing his boots) and began rearranging the pillows to his tastes.

Sighing at his guest's disregard for personal property Roy went to retrieve a coffee before _he_ lost his mind. Caffeine was his glorious saviour in all of the mind boggling events he witnessed daily. And the extra time would give him a moment to go over why this had to be the _same_ kid, not merely a ghost coming to haunt him.

He peeked around the edge of the counter to secretly spy on the blonde removing his coat casually, as if it was completely natural to enter someone's home on no notice. Meanwhile, he ignored the fact that it was _he_ who suggested Ed come back with him.

The kid looked to be alright, but something was off.

Maybe it was the stiffness he held himself upright with, maybe it was the dark understanding lurking in his eyes, or maybe it was the simple fact that that _same _kid he knew years ago had nearly killed him.

Suddenly, Roy began to doubt his original intentions.

Perhaps he shouldn't have brought the kid to his house.

He shook his head vehemently. To leave him alone in that alley would have been wrong.

_Besides…_

Roy smirked at Ed trying desperately to remove his tight gloves while snarling to no avail.

This _was_ Edward.

The same Edward that he hadn't seen for so long, and who he thought had died without shame. He was here now, sitting in Roy's very living room. How could he have let a chance like this slip through his fingers? Who was to say if he hadn't been hospitable that Ed would not have slipped through his fingers, leaving only fine smoke-like trails?

Every fibre in his being was screaming at him that he was right. That is what _would_ have happened.

Mustang rejoined his guest after the brief confrontation with his conscience and sat across from him.

Giving up on his gloves, Ed gazed distractedly at the house he was now in. It wasn't how he remembered.

The couches were different, the floor was more worn out, and the air seemed much clearer. Although, he did notice with a small joy that his old red coat was still hanging in the exact place he had left it. In the corner out of anyone's way, near the shamrock plants wooden stand.

_Why had he kept it?_

"Mind telling me what you were doing there?"

Edward snapped his attention back to Roy and swallowed nervously. He knew this was a bad idea. How bloody stupid could he be? Of course Mustang was going to ask questions.

"It's not every night that someone nearly decapitates me while I'm at work."

Yeah, and it wasn't everyday that he was paid to kill one of his old friends, without any knowledge at all of their identity.

Grinning a little too enthusiastically, Ed replied with the lame excuse of, "I-It was just a joke Mustang! You need to loosen up."

He grimaced slightly at the look of disbelief passing over Roy's face. Why hadn't he thought of something _more_ intelligent to say?

"I seriously doubt it. You seemed to be just as surprised as I was when I saw you."

The blonde remained silent.

Disappointed, but not entirely putout, he let the lack of response slide. If he really wanted to answer the question he would have. And the fact that he didn't proved that it was far more serious than Roy had originally thought.

With shaky hands, Ed pulled out a small cardboard box from his pocket and before his host could say anything, he drew a stick and lit it. Gratefully sucking in the smoke to hopefully calm his nerves he glared at Mustang.

Once he found his voice over his blunt shock Roy reached to snatch the cigarette from Edward's hand. "What the _hell_ are you doing?"

Ignoring the booming of an angered man, he lazily leaned back out of Roy's reach and grinned when the other slumped back defeated.

"I'm smoking. Can't you tell?"

"I sure can. I can also tell that you're underage."

Ed blinked repeatedly. Then burst out laughing.

"Got a problem keeping track of time old man? I'm not sixteen anymore."

Mustang was startled by the laughs that were slowly turning to giggles and scolded himself. Where had _he_ been?

Sitting here like they did years ago, his mind must have drifted back away to that time without his consent. And that faint scent of smoke was an alarming bell ringing warningly saying that time had passed and things _were_ different.

Fine. So Ed was of legal age, that didn't mean that Roy _had_ to like the habit that he'd picked up.

To break the tense silence, Edward tried to strike up a topic that would pull the attention away from him. "So Mustang, are you still with those stiff coats?"

Roy smiled sadly. Whenever Ed would be over and he came to his home in uniform, complaints would fly non-stop over how much his clothes stank of starch. And every time, he would reply by saying that it needed the starch to keep it stiff and professional looking. A particular time, Ed had chosen to shoot back a question if Roy had ever used it elsewhere and if that was _why_ he felt so itchy after a bed session. Mustang had been so floored and mortified by the question that he'd awarded Edward the point and the subject was never brought up again.

That is until this day at one in the morning. "No, they got tired of me."

The blonde actually appeared shocked for a moment, but before Roy could comment, he turned his smirk back on.

"That's good."

_Good? _His deduction of rank and title was a _good_ thing?

"If you want to play the role of an adult and prove that you're not still a child, try using your brain Ed. There's _nothing_ good about it."

Instead of becoming a golden eagle with ruffled feathers as Roy had thought, he remained calm.

"Sure it is. If you were still there, you'd be obliged to your duty."

At Edward's annoying word games, Mustang chose to wait for a further explanation.

"I mean, don't they _still_ turn people in?"

This time, it was Roy who laughed, "Come on Ed. It's not like you're a _criminal_ or anything." The absurd idea floated in his head and he kept chuckling.

That is until the silence permeated through past his emotions to his head.

For the first time that morning, Edward's smirk slipped away into a distant frown. And he refused to meet Roy's gaze.

What the hell? He _couldn't _actually-

Ed's right hand was shaking. And even Roy knew that only happened when he _knew_ he'd done something wrong.

Could he-?

Gracefully standing and moving in front of the dejected blonde on his sofa, Mustang grabbed him around his collar and hauled him up to meet his own eyes.

"What have you _done_, Edward?"

His hands were slapped away, and Ed began to head to the front door.

Roy followed him hurriedly demanding an answer.

"Tell me what you did Ed. I may not be a cop, but I _am_ still an enforcer of the law."

Edward's footsteps faltered slightly.

Mustang saw his chance, "Just _answer_ me! I can still help you out of whatever trouble you've gotten yourself into."

He turned around quickly and pressed his lips to Roy's, shutting him up effectively.

Roy's hands wound their way around Ed's waist and he pulled him closer, remaining on the small of his back. Gloved fingers lingered on the broad shoulders, squeezing tightly in fear of moving away, quickly finding their way to the head of dark hair.

Gasping a quick breath, Mustang leaned back an inch.

"What was that for?"

He fisted his hands in the long golden hair that he had successfully untied when Edward wasn't paying attention.

Ed tucked his head under the other's chin and deeply inhaled the thick scent of smoke. It was so familiar to him. Yet, so unlike the putrid smoke he inhaled daily. This was the smell of home; a home plunged into flames and wood. This was Mustang's scent, _his_ Mustang.

"Old time's sake," he mumbled into the pale skin of a neck.

Roy stroked his hair lightly, "Then for old time's sake would you stay the night?"

Edward seemed to consider this before _violently_ lurching himself away from the other.

Ignoring the confusion on Roy's face he gave a watery laugh.

"Someone's out to kill you Mustang, so you must be pissing that someone off. I suggest you be careful."

Roy brokenly reached to the warmth that had left him so suddenly.

But he was too late.

A gloved hand waved quickly, "Later, Mustang."

"Are you _really_ going to kill me?"

There came no answer, Edward was already gone.

* * *

"Brother, you do realize what time it is-"

"Yes, Al."

"-and you do remember _promising_ to be home three hours ago, right?"

"Yeah."

Alphonse tapped his foot lightly, refusing to let his older sibling past him. "Then why are you dragging yourself through the door at… let's see… 1:00 in the morning?"

Edward lightly pushed his persecutor out of his way and fell boneless onto his bed.

"I had to work late."

Al sighed and sat next to Ed, "I sure wish you'd tell me where it is you work. I mean, these kinds of hours are insane! I'd sure give them a piece of my mind if _you _weren't so stubborn."

Tell Al where he worked? Never. That idea was impossible and he refused to have his innocent little brother knew that the money for the food they ate came from the expense of a dead man's body. He'd go into complete denial if he knew his idolized older brother killed men nearly every night.

That was _never_ going to happen, because Edward would make sure Al never had to know.

"Well, I got off at midnight. But I ran into someone… unexpected."

Alphonse frowned and sniffed the air delicately, "Is that why you smell like smoke?"

Ah, that was _another_ thing Al was unaware of.

"Yep, but it was worth it."

It was that damn bastard's fault for making him so nervous. He never would have lit up if it weren't for him.

Suddenly, Al turned to him, noticing the look in his eyes.

That look he got often. The dull gleam in his eyes which said he was thinking of nothing, merely dazing around in his thoughts. And the gleam that said those thoughts of nothing meant _everything_ to him.

"It was Roy, wasn't it?"

Ed drew in a startled gulp of air and smiled sheepishly.

"So you found him?"

He nodded, not really trusting his voice, lest he reveal something he desired to keep secret. Like perhaps how much he had wanted to stay and pretend that only Roy existed in his world, and how _badly_ he'd desired to bask in his arms.

Alphonse grinned and put an arm around Ed's shoulders. "I sure hope it works out for you this time." Then with a combusting force his eyes brightened excitedly, "Did you get to see Mr. Sprinkles?"

"No, we were a little busy talking."

Mr. Sprinkles was a kitten that Al had found a long time ago, and one that two brothers trying to support each other could not afford to keep. Therefore, Alphonse had begged him to take it to Roy and see if he would keep it. Grudgingly, Ed had complied and the bastard accepted it as a gift. One that Al used to visit in his house weekly.

"Sure you were _just_ talking, Brother?"

Al suggestively wiggled his eyebrows before Ed dawned in understanding and shoved him away, embarrassed. He refused to let him know that he was right.

But his blush kind of gave it away.

"You did! Well, I take it back Ed, it seems like you two don't need my prayers, you're doing just fine on your own!" Al hurried out of the room, evading the oncoming pillow, and bolted down the stairs to escape Ed's wrath.

Edward resigned to lying down and staring at his ceiling, ignoring the picture hidden beneath his pillow. Al had taken it while Roy and Ed engaged in a deadly combat of a snowball fight, and for some reason he had _kept_ it.

Maybe that was why Roy still had his coat.

'_I hope it works out for you…' _

Somehow he wasn't so sure.

Defeated by his thoughts, Ed reached under and revealed the scrap of paper and gazed at it longingly.

The edges were torn and crinkled, probably because he looked at it so often.

'_Mustang, you bastard! That's cheating!' Edward squawked when Roy crept up behind him and poured near melting snow down his back. He had been distracted when Al took a picture, and the flash nearly blinded him._

'_It is not. It's your own fault that you have the attention span of a _flea_.'_

_Ed's face burned, 'A flea? Hey, are you trying to call me _short_ you sneaky, manipulative-'_

_Roy cut off the famous rant he received daily with a warm kiss, shutting him up effectively._

_The two lingered in the heat their bodies created, ignoring the currently attention deprived Mr. Sprinkles winding around their feet, and moved their bodies closer._

'_Please you guys, keep it to PG before you _burn_ my eyes out!' Al cried out as the seemingly innocent display of affection became steamier._

'_Yes, Edward, we wouldn't want to scar your little brother. So try to contain yourself.' Roy smirked and pulled away from him._

_Edward huffed, 'Stupid bastard.'_

Tears gathered in his eyes and he blinked at them desperately, not wanting to let them fall.

'_I hope it works out for you...'_

"Yeah right," Ed whispered before turning over and falling into a fitful sleep, picture slowly falling form his lose hand.

It was almost easy to forget that he had nearly killed that same person without a second thought.

_Almost._

* * *

_AN: Thank you reviewers and I hope this satisfies all readers._

_Comments are appreciated. _


	3. Price

**_Price-_**

Rule Number Two: Remain emotionally detached from situations.

Wasn't that what he was taught? Was he not told to abide by that no matter what, and even in his personal life, not just his work? Then why couldn't he _listen_?

People were dead because of his choice, more were destined to die each day. Who was he to tread upon their peaceful lives for no real reason other than to make some cash?

He had asked that once, and received an answer that he hadn't wanted, but an answer nonetheless.

'_That's life kid. You gotta spend life to make life. Some animal groups kill off the old to make way for the young, so tell me, how is this any different?'_

_I don't know_, he had replied. And to his amazement, he still possessed no answer.

But the job he had to do this day haunted him all through his sleep and breakfast. "Remain detached, huh? Easier said than done…" Ed mumbled past his toast.

Detached was something he could do perfectly most times, yet now, to kill an innocent woman, seemed _impossible. _He had sworn to never kill a woman, and here was a greedy pig of a man telling him to do so. With nearly a thousand dollars riding on this though, he had to do it. They _needed _the money.

Edward nodded while drinking his juice determinedly. If he wouldn't do this for himself, then he _had_ to do it for Al.

After all, his brother was taking an advanced mechanics course in a university, and that class required some big cash. Cash that Ed _refused_ to let Al work himself for. He wanted him to put all of his thoughts on his studies and focus on school. Something that he never had the _chance_ to do.

He _would_ do this for Al.

Sighing in acceptance, Ed left his plate in the sink and went to check on his sick sibling.

The sight of Alphonse lying, nearly half asleep met him. He smiled at the tousled form and resumed his previous place of placing a cool cloth over the burning forehead, in hopes of breaking the fever. Al moaned and leaned into the cold paradise.

That was another problem.

The job he had been hired to do had to be completed that same day, regardless of any excuse he could pull up. It was either obey the orders, or lose the pay. And he _really_ couldn't afford the latter.

So, after swallowing much of his pride, Edward leaned over and picked up the telephone, admitting that he _needed _someone's help.

* * *

"I must say that when you phoned me, this certainly wasn't what I had expected."

Ed glared while _daring_ the other to comment further.

"Not that I don't mind watching your brother. Because I have _nothing _in my busy life to attend to."

Finally, he snapped, "Shut up you bastard! I happen to know that you only work the night shifts, so you don't need to be anywhere until seven."

Roy sighed disapprovingly, "Edward, work is not the only thing on my list of to do things. I do have a life believe it or not." He smirked condescendingly, "Unlike _some_ unfortunate people."

"Bastard," Ed hissed as he put on his coat.

Mustang shifted his weight in the chair onto his left side. "You said you needed me to come because you had to work?"

Ed nodded.

"Exactly where _do_ you work?"

He left before anything more could be said.

* * *

This was _all_ he had to do.

He held the knife up.

Kill this woman when she was not looking and then flee the scene.

His hand trembled.

God, _where _was his nerve?

"Goodbye Ross, see you after your lunch break!" A voice called and he knew that this was his opportune chance.

But, hell, he _knew_ her.

It may have not been _as_ intimate of an acquaintance as Roy was. Still, this woman was like his surrogate mother when his own passed away and he followed Mustang to work. She would be there, watching out for him, making sure he stayed out of trouble, and consoling him when he needed it most.

How could he kill _her?_

It was either this woman's life or Al's future, and he was having the hardest time deciding.

Edward gripped the handle of the blade tightly, his nails making small indents in his leather gloves.

Shit, he nearly killed _Roy_ last night, so what was the big deal now?

She was walking right past him, who was hiding in the bushes, and was headed, to her vehicle. No one else was around, he surveyed with a quick jolt of his head. There would be no crowd this time to witness what he was going to do.

Al, his _brother_ or Maria Ross, his _friend. _He had to make the choice.

_Al…_

_Ross…_

_Al…_

He saw her cerulean eyes life up to the bright sky and he chose, forgetting his conscience entirely.

_Al!_

His insides screamed when the blade was jaggedly ripped from her chest and she staggered back. Edward straightened his back, tears dawning in his eyes as hers met his.

She seemed confused at first, not having seen him in so long, and not really realizing what had hit her. Only that a _dull _throbbing was casually growing just under her breastbone.

"E-Edward?" Her ragged voice gasping for air _tore_ at his insides.

Giving her some piece of mind, he whispered a quiet, "Yes."

And when she opened her bloodied lips to ask him why, _why_ he had done this and _why_ had he betrayed her, her body fell silently to the stone ground.

Ed turned away, wiping the trails from his face and left, seeking his payment.

Rule Number Three: _Always_ follow Number Two.

* * *

Roy Mustang wouldn't admit that he was worried, for himself and for Ed.

He had been thinking about it since the blonde had left a helpless boy in his care, trusting him completely without another word on the subject. And he truly felt that maybe _something_ was still salvageable from what they had.

But, the fact that Edward had nearly ended his life haunted his thoughts. No, that wasn't it. The idea that Ed had nearly killed _him_ was not his problem; it was that he had almost _killed_ period. He'd said that he was the unlucky soul who had to end his life. Did that mean he really was a criminal or a murderer without his _own_ free will?

Such foreboding thoughts were what caused Roy to ask the question to Al when he had awoken in a delirious state.

"Alphonse, where does you brother work?"

Sure, he felt a little bad at what he was doing. Sneaking around behind Ed's back and asking questions to his relative. Although, because Al was delirious, and not quite sure of where or what he was, Mustang had a feeling that the answer may be more towards the truth than a cover up lie to protect Ed.

"Mmm? Brother works late, you know…"

Roy gave Alphonse a sip of water as a payment (and possible bribe for a further explanation).

"Does he? Why is that?"

Al rolled to face him and cupped a hand over his mouth and whispered, like a small child would when trying to keep a secret they were sharing quiet. "Yeah, and sometimes he smells funny when he gets back. He falls asleep and I check on him and he smells like…" He paused dramatically, "…iron."

Face turning rather puce at the indication Roy urged him to continue.

Giggling softly, Al began to speak louder, "And sometimes, even his clothes are stained really dark, if you touch them your fingers turn _red_." He suddenly snuggled into the covers, "But Brother doesn't want _me_ to know that. He says it isn't important."

"I'm sure it isn't," Roy lied, ignoring what he really wanted to say and instead conveying the underlying fears of the boy.

He set Mr. Sprinkles (whom had journeyed with him to the Elric residence) onto the bed and left, closing the door quietly.

So, was it true?

Mustang braced his back onto the hallway's wall and stared at a picture of Ed dressed as a vampire for Halloween, smiling carelessly, his fangs flashing in the camera's light.

Was Edward really trying to kill him in that alley?

When he heard the front door close loudly and footsteps tromp up the stairs he decided that he would ask the blonde mystery himself.

_Whatever_ the cost.

* * *

Edward tried to think positive, after all, he made a great profit and the day was still young. But, the sweat and blood soaked face of a woman who had trusted him disturbed his attempts to be optimistic.

Besides, what if _Roy_ found out what he had done: Killed a friend of his who he used to work with?

He shuddered at the thought.

From the looks of it, Mustang had _already_ taken a large enough hit for him, and felt the results whether he wanted to or not. Ed refused to let him do it again.

There was, however, one thing that bothered him.

Was it not rather curious that, not necessarily he, but someone would be paid off to kill two people who were involved with the police? (Or had been in Mustang's case.)

And why did he feel like he had seen that _'Park Bendley' _somewhere before?

As he met Mustang's perturbed gaze at the top of the staircase, Ed let his ponderings float away to be stored in his brain for the time being.

Saluting Roy sarcastically he walked past him and peeked at a passed out Al, nodded an affirmative in his brother's good care, and was about to say a polite thanks to Roy. However, Ed was forced to pause and take in the look on the face staring down at him.

"What's the matter Mustang? Have some problems babysitting?" He asked teasingly. And when _no_ amused reply came, he feared the worst.

Roy stood in front of him and clamped his hands onto Edward's shoulders tightly. The blonde had escaped his questions twice, he was determined that it would _not_ happen a third.

"There's something important I have to talk to you about."

Ed quivered at the hoarse tone and grinned, dismissing the seriousness of the situation, "I get it. You want some sort of payment for this I suppose?" Before he could answer Ed shrugged of the clamped on hands and pulled Mustang down the stairs. "I'll take you out for dinner as payment. It's only… five, so you've got a couple hours to kill, right?"

They stopped at the front door and Ed looked back at Roy, praying and pleading that he would _forget_ whatever it was he wanted to say.

Roy noticed the hopeful look, but made no comment and instead replied, "Dinner sounds nice."

Really, he had known Edward for quite a while now. And he knew that it was not always easy to get an answer out of the blonde. You couldn't directly demand a response. No, you had to _coax _it out of him, and relying on his impulsive nature, Ed would spout out something he hadn't meant to say, giving you your answer.

That was exactly what he planned to do, however long it took, he would get an answer eventually.

While Ed dragged Roy out of the house, a persistent thought floated back into his mind, the voice ringing harshly.

'_Remain emotionally detached from situations.'_

As he gazed happily (to his amazement) at his companion for a simple meal, he wondered lazily if what he was doing now was going against the rule.

Although, wasn't he told that if he were to go against the rules _bad_ things would happen?

Roy smiled down at his obvious excitement.

_Nah._

He disregarded the blood soaked knife residing in his pocket, coated with the life of _another_ innocent person.

Bad things happened to him daily, so why should he let them also taint one of his few happy times?

Besides, the person who recited the rules to his daily was dead; he had made sure of that.

Then, _why_ did he feel so uneasy?

* * *

_AN: Thanks to you intriguing little reviewers, and because of you, I have updated faster than I'd intended._

_Leave a review if you feel like it. (Or if you want an update .)_


	4. Repercussion

**_Repercussion-_**

Do people actually realize how many accidental deaths and injuries occur from guns? That a person could fire from rage or fright, without the intention to kill in the first place?

A gun has two parts to it, the trigger and the barrel, and with one _single _shot, it is possible to claim someone's life.

A knife however, is much more complex, even though the construction is so much simpler. It has two sides, one of life and one of death. The user has the opportunity to change their mind at the very last minute and save someone's life. Not that he ever made that decision though.

But he had a back up explanation.

Everyone uses knives daily, whether to cut meat, trim off extra fabric or butter a piece of bread, people hold them in their hands so many times in a life. Maybe it was an attempt to separate himself from the reality of what he was doing, or maybe it was plainly an excuse. Whatever the case, he would always argue that knives were a better tool than guns.

Two of his very _first_ victims were taken with guns, yet he knew exactly what he was doing both times. He stared into their faces and watched single and multiple bullets blow through their chests.

It was so easy, once the emotional barrier of a conscience was removed. A simple muscular contraction of one his fingers, and **BAM** someone dies.

Whereas with a knife, there were a lot more guilt issues to battle with. You had to get up close to the bodies and stab them in a place that would kill them instantly. Unless you enjoyed the bloodshed of gore falling over you while you pierced through them repeatedly.

So he had decided to use knives to kill, so that he would always be reminded of the gravity of what he was doing.

_Lest he forget._

* * *

Roy's gaze tilted down to the menu before him and Ed sighed with relief. At least the bastard wasn't staring at him anymore.

Because honestly, he wasn't stupid.

Obviously there was something quite important that Roy wanted to ask him, and he had tried on several occasions. But from what Edward though to be extremely good luck, something kept on interfering in his attempts. A waitress would walk by them flirtatiously, a man would laugh loudly behind him, or Ed would accidentally kick him in the shin before he could get the question out.

Frankly, the blonde though he had an idea of what is was that Mustang wanted to ask.

Something along the lines of, _'Why did you try to kill me?'_

And what would he say to that? _'Well, I was looking to make a few quick bucks and was hired off to, just like every other night. But I really didn't know that it was you.'_

Yeah right.

Hence he was chagrined at what to do.

* * *

Head tilted down toward the steak section of his pressed menu, Roy pretended to be looking for a decent choice of selection. In actuality, he had been staring at his dinner companion since they had arrived. But he wasn't stupid, he could see that Edward was becoming irritated with his unwavering stare, and the last thing he wanted to do was make him uncomfortable.

An Ed that was embarrassed usually shouted and ranted off about some strange thing to draw the attention away from himself. In reverse, an uncomfortable Ed left completely. That was something that Mustang could not afford to have happen _again._

Although he was paying particular attention now to Edward, he was still having a difficult time getting a reading.

It had been so much easier when he was a kid. His emotion shone through on his face whether he wanted it to or not, and Roy wished that he were still that way. Rather than being so withdrawn into his mind, turned away from the world of reality.

That posed an interesting thought. Why was it that Ed had changed so much?

Naturally, when kids grow out of their teenage years, they're going to change physically and mentally. But in most cases they kept a good deal of their original personality.

What had happened to make Edward so different from the average textbook cases? And why did it seem that he didn't want Roy to _know_ the reason?

* * *

The silence was tense and uncomfortable, and right about now he felt like saying to hell with it and taking a hike somewhere far away from life.

He should have known something akin to what was occurring would happen.

Every time Ed chose to look down at the table or out the window in the darkening night, out of the corner of his eye he would see Roy peering casually over to him. And it took all of his willpower not to shout out at Mustang to back off, and then run away himself.

After all, there were many excuses he could come up with. Al needed him at home, he had to file some paperwork, he needed to use the washroom and the one at the restaurant wasn't clean enough, they were all true, but he just couldn't bring himself to spit any of them out.

Because through all the layers of anxiousness and uneasiness, Edward was enjoying this much more than he let on.

It was as if his mind drifted away to when they were still together officially and none of the night business he conducted even existed. Here, in this place, he was safe from the reality of his life. In a room filled with people and Roy at his side, he couldn't kill anyone, couldn't immerse himself into guilt and most of all he didn't have to act like an adult.

Here, he was -dare he think- at peace.

However, the reality was that in an hour Mustang would have to work, so this night could not continue on forever, even in Ed's dreams.

Roy glanced up at him finally letting the other look into his eyes, instead of trying to avoid them constantly.

"Should we order now?"

Edward nodded and Roy signalled a waitress to come over. He wished to someone that Roy had not.

She clumsily stood in front of them, giggling nervously when she stumbled and began to jot down Mustang's order.

Ed though, merely stared at her with some shock and fear and hesitance.

Her hair was bleached blonde from a naturally darker color and she had pure blue contacts in her eyes, her casual tomboy appearance should have sent off warning bells inside his head immediately.

'_Kill her Chibi! Do it now. If you don't, I'll go find that little brother of ours and kill him. And you know that I will, so don't even try to deny my seriousness.'_

Roy asked him if he was alright.

'_Look at her Chibi, I said look! Isn't she happy now?'_

The waitress stared at him nervously.

'_You set her free.'_

He wanted to run.

'_She had no parents (they were killed I believe) and was living a monotonous life. But you let her be free without pain, it's what she wanted.'_

He bit his lips, forcing himself back into the present and away from his thoughts. Laughing shakily at his supposed day dreaming he apologized, spurt off some random dish like he would have when embarrassed, just as people who knew him expected him to.

However, his own words ran through his head distractedly.

'_Then _why_ was she screaming?'_

* * *

Roy was beginning to feel as though this night was proving to be far more fruitful than he had first thought.

He knew that it sounded cruel, but whatever it was that had just happened between that girl and Edward was like a godsend. Mustang hadn't been able to get a real reaction out of the blonde, but that waitress did, all by walking up to them.

The way that Ed's face had completely blanched meant that she really must have hit a large nerve.

And the laugh Edward gave when he shook off his initial surprise may have fooled the girl, but it sure as hell did not fool him. It was forced and watery; it could not even hold a candle up to the laugh he normally gave off when embarrassed. Sure it was often quite shaky, though never did Roy nearly see tears fall from Ed's eyes during a supposed expression like thus.

And as she left, he expectedly saw that this was the opportune time to push Edward just a little bit further. He would rely on his theory of impulsiveness and go from there.

Hopefully, nothing bad would ensue from his actions.

Placing his hand lightly on Ed's and noting the startle the blonde gave, he asked what he had been trying to for close to an hour.

"Why did you try to kill me, Edward?"

Roy saw his fake happiness falter, and a dark look loomed in his eyes.

_Coax him: _that was the plan.

"Are you killing other people?" He gently pried as if it was the most casual thing in the world, and he hoped to high heaven that he was wrong.

Ed's shoulders slumped, as if he had been expecting this the entire time.

"I… It's not-" He tried to explain in a mumble, but was cut off from an alarming ring of Mustang's cell phone.

Roy answered it calmly and his gaze never left the one before him.

Edward had not denied anything, he merely tried to make a stumbled excuse and avoid the question entirely.

That was _not _a good sign.

* * *

"May I ask why you are calling me so late at night Riza?"

Ed tried to ignore the conversation Roy was having with another person that he knew from Mustang's old job and instead attempted to weigh his options.

Sure the call may last one minute to five, but eventually it would end and they would be back at where they were. It bought him some time.

"Are you sure? How can Ross be _dead? _She can hold herself in a fight just as well as you."

Edward paled considerably, and unfortunately for him Mustang noticed.

He turned as if to saunter away unnoticeably. Roy grabbed his wrist tightly, refusing to let him escape.

"So it was a murder." Roy was close to glaring at him now as Ed fought to get out of his grasp desperately. "Sure, I'll take the night off and come down; she _was_ on my division after all. Thank you for calling."

Mustang snapped the lid shut angrily.

He dragged Edward to his feet, ignoring that their food was now arriving and set out to leave with the blonde in tow. Tossing some bills onto the cash out they both left, one willingly and the other not.

Cool night air blew onto his face and Ed wished that he had some sort of sunglasses to cover his eyes. Anything to keep them hidden from a penetrating gaze Roy was giving him as he briskly pulled Ed along.

Mustang halted at a red light.

"Now Edward, we are going to see our friend that is dead, and on the way you are going to tell _me exactly _what the fuck _you_ had to do with it."

The words stung, but a greater reality haunted him.

There was no escaping this, not this time. The consequences of what he had done were coming back to bite him in the ass. And Ed deduced rather calmly that it hurt _more_ than the severity of Roy's words.

* * *

_AN: I don't have much to say other than I like the comments this story's getting, and surely hope there'll be some more for this chapter. (And that you really observant reader can figure out who the girl was). _


	5. Alteration

**_Alteration-_**

"I started noticing him back when I thought companions were a worthy and valuable asset. Whenever I would become upset, angry, or even slightly violent, he came and took over me. Dare I say it was not possession? Hardly. I still can remember what happened during those instances and still am able to recall what I felt as I injured people around me. Whether it be with words or actions.

He was like a voice, always lying presumably dormant inside my head, and docile he would stay, as long as I did the same. But, when I lost control, he came into power with an absolute dictatorship.

Coaxing me into doing things was his favorite hobby. Not necessarily things that were wrong and dirty. More like convincing me it was okay to punch Al when he called me short."

'_The brothers, forsaken with another disagreement due to their impending teenage years of disobedience were having another war. This time with fists instead of words. Ironically, after the fact, neither could remember what they were arguing on in the first place._

_Edward, although somewhat shorter, was older and stronger when it came to brute force with muscle, hence he could easily shove Al to the ground._

_However, when Alphonse chose that moment to retort a comment back suggesting that Ed's height was undoubtedly laced in with the capacity of his brain to understand a situation, the everyday brotherly fight turned far more violent than necessary._

Come now, Chibi. Can't you see? He's mocking you. You didn't cry at Mother's funeral, now did you? That's what he's angry about. Our brother is jealous, because you acted stiff and rigid, whereas he could barely contain his sobs. After all, we all know that grown men like us shouldn't cry. Isn't that right?

_The elder sibling listened to the voice whispering in his ear, and decided that he agreed with it. So, when more nudges and pushes came from a darker half, he punched Alphonse clear across the nose. The impact drove the boy back down to the floor that he had rose up from in retaliation. Bits of blood darkened their carpet, staining the victim's face and the executer's conscience._

What the hell did I just do? _He screamed to himself, ignoring the calming voice that had persuaded this act._

_Ed watched Al slowly pull himself off of the floor, shakily bracing on the sofa before standing a full height brokenly._

_Staring into his brother's golden eyes, into the face of the one who was his role model and near best friend, Alphonse hissed a deadly message. The implication was so strong, that it hit Edward's ears as a cry._

_Suddenly, he recalled what had started this. Being the more optimistic of the two, Al had been asking him when their Dad would come home (disregarding that he left when their Mother departed this world)._

_For an unknown reason, this had always irked him. He hated his old man and preferred not to think of him if given the chance. To let the waters of their rocky relationship cool was his backdrop, something he relied on daily. And yet, his little brother seemed so determined to disrupt the balance._

Am I not good enough for him? _Ed had wondered, and that maybe that was why Al was so insistent that their Father would come back._

_Rather than dismissing the queries like he realized he should have, he spurted out something akin to the man not giving a damn about them._

I hate you. _His Alphonse hissed dangerously at him as he walked past and stormed up to his room.' _

"I mean, in reality I knew that he didn't mean it. Hell, he didn't even remember saying it the next day, but it was something I would never forget.

Sadly, that one outburst of my brother's usually calm temper was the straw that broke my back.

I was weak then, completely unaware of the advances of my newly adopted darker half.

You saw me, depressed and looking like I couldn't give a shit about anyone or anything. It was logical of you to assume that I did not.

But honestly, I cannot thank you enough for staying with me, even though you really had no idea what was going on. And, I'm sorry I neglected to tell you."

Edward buried his face into the shoulder of Roy's jacket, trembling for all he was worth, though he continued talking as if he had to get it out of his system.

"There was a girl; I don't know who she was. He told me that if I didn't kill her, that he would kill Al. And I believed him." Ed laughed bitterly. "It's not like I could have run to the police and told them that someone was posing a threat and that someone was myself. I would have been locked up before I knew it."

"So I did it. I shot her with a gun and watched her die." He turned his shining eyes up to Roy, "You remember, don't you? I said I had a headache, and then I cancelled out on our date."

Mustang nodded. He did remember, and only wished that he had known sooner.

"But there was one day -I think it was in April- that he told me to do something that I couldn't. Not matter what he threatened, I just couldn't."

'Kill him Chibi.

No! _He yelled, gripping the edges of his temples, nearly ripping out sections of his hair in the process._

I said do it. _The voice, calm and seductive as ever rarely got angry as he did._

Not him… Please not Roy. _In anguish he began to sob._

_Edward curled himself onto Mustang's pillow, inhaling the deep scents his chest heaving with each breath._

_When the faint sound of a door opening met his ears, Ed's heart skipped one too many beats. He heard Roy calling for him, trying to figure out where he was. And all he could do was to think how desperately he wanted to scream at Mustang not to come any closer._

_Ed wasn't sure when it was that the voice, who called itself Pride, had become jealous of his lover. Because in reality, that was what this was all about. When he became too close to Al, Pride would intervene and split them apart further, and it appeared that the same would now be true for the one Edward could not stand to lose._

_I hear him coming, Chibi. _Pride cackled.

The footfalls were growing louder and louder, they were echoing inside of Ed's head.

The voice yawned, _Time to say goodbye Edo._

_Edward was on the verge of responding, and was damn near ready to beg Pride. Although, with a slight tilt of his head downwards, Ed noticed that a gun had somehow worked its way into his hand. He whimpered._

Not him-

_The blonde's hand rose of its own accord, finger already on the trigger._

-Please! _Ed cried out to Pride, hoping that it he was broken enough, the voice would give up on this sick little game._

_The bedroom's door handle turned, and Roy's face peeked into the door, sighing in relief when he spotted the blonde haired boy sitting on his bed. Darkness of the evening hung about the east side of his room, eluding him from catching more than a shadowed outline of his young lover._

I brought you some cinnamon rolls that Gracia made. They're a little cold from my walk, but good all the same. _Roy placed a paper bag on the end of the fluffy quilt adorning his sleeping area. He began removing his uniform with his back facing Ed, secretly preparing to snuggle the kid to death. It was so damn cold outside._

_A small click pierced the silence as the chamber rotated to the next round._

_Roy turned back to Edward, but froze at the up close view of a steel gun._

E-Edward… What are you doing with that? _The voice was panicky and slightly erratic. Mustang inched closer to him, hoping that he could divert the teen's attention long enough to swipe the weapon. Too bad Pride wished to say something else of his plan._

_When the trigger fully pulled back Ed screeched out a _NO! _for both Roy and Pride to hear. _

_Gaining a brief lapse of control over his own body Edward titled the firearm back and brought the assault upon himself.'_

"You know, I was really scared then. But I thought that I could hit two birds with one stone, I could save you and get rid of Pride for good."

Roy, who was near a breakdown himself, pulled Edward completely onto his lap and wrapped his arms around him.

They had just returned from the crime scene. If not for Ed's obvious behaviour, after hearing what he just did from the blonde's own mouth, Mustang knew that he was the culprit.

He remembered the hurried trip to the hospital where doctors tried to save the kid that died twice on the table, and all he could do at the time was think how this was _his_ entire fault.

Eventually came the police reports of what had happened, how Roy had found Ed, who shot him, and so on. Could he really say that to him it looked as though Edward had tried to commit suicide before him? One thing was for sure, if he did, neither he nor Alphonse would likely see Ed for a long while. So, Mustang lied.

He said that _he_ had shot the kid, thinking he was a burglar entering his home unannounced.

After a proper trial, Roy was gracefully demoted to his standards at present, his staff however, refused to believe a word of it. But respected him enough to let him go along with his own decisions.

"Then why did you leave after that?" Roy whispered loud enough to be heard _over_ Edward's bawling.

Luckily for them, it was late at night, and a bench placed nowhere in particular with an area deserted greeted them, of which they had seized the opportunity.

"Because. What if it happened again? What if I couldn't stop him?" Ed choked out and it was then that Roy understood _why_ he had been willing to put them both through years of separation.

Edward had done it to protect him.

"But, isn't he-?"

"No."

Mustang lightly pulled Ed away from him to get a better look of the tearstained face. "I thought you said that you got rid of him that night?"

Edward shook his head, "I can _still_ hear him inside my head. He just won't **die**."

When the sobbing ensued once again, Roy vowed that this time he would not back away, even if it was what Ed _wanted_. This time, he would stay.

Lover's duty or not.

* * *

_AN: Well, that about sums up the background of what had happened, and I hope you readers are satisfied with the outcome._

_Comments to go around if you were, and if you weren't, try to keep the civil so as not to banish me into a fit of tears. _


	6. Arrest

**_Arrest-_**

Edward frowned.

That wasn't exactly the most reassuring answer Mustang could have given him. All he'd asked was if Roy would turn him in to the police. And the bastard did not even have the gall to give any reply; he merely remained silent, deep in thought.

Of course, his actions pissed off the blonde, who was now making his way home, Ed had left him without a second thought on the matter. That is, until he started to actually _think_ about it.

Had he not laid his _deepest_ secret bare for Roy to gaze upon and scrutinize at his wish?

Had he not shown an _infinite_ amount of trust in thinking that Roy would not backstab him by bringing the police into his personal issues?

He thought he did.

Hence the reason he had asked in the first place. All he had wanted was some reassurance, but he did not even get that.

No, when he left, Roy had not tried to stop him.

Ed bit his lip, pausing at his front door, and wondering if perhaps, he had read Mustang wrong to begin with. Maybe he was disgusted with Edward now that he knew the truth.

His hand grasped the brass doorknob and a greater reality hit him like a breath of pungent air. What if Roy was going to leave him now? He sure showed no problem when Ed left.

Swallowing at the sudden resentment and despair that thought had caused, he entered his home and swore not to dwell on the matter anymore.

They were a thing of the past, which was a clear fact.

"Al?" He called loudly at the silence. It was not even midnight yet, so his brother should have still been awake. Granted, the younger Elric was ill when Ed left. But still… "Hey, Alphonse? Where are you?"

Becoming somewhat panicked at the lack of answer, he leapt up the stairs, three at a time, and burst into the room he'd left Al in.

An empty bed greeted him, sheets pulled back and a still damp rag lying on the floor. He wasn't there.

"Al! Answer me!"

Edward headed for the downstairs again, hoping that maybe he missed something on his first go around. At a brief flash of a shadow in the corner, he stopped completely, shoes screeching on the wooden floor and nearly leaving trails of burned rubber.

Beside a shelf with books crammed on it sat Alphonse, blanket curled around his shoulders and a thin book lying over his legs.

"Why the hell couldn't you answer me?" Ed angrily demanded as he tromped over yonder.

Al's gaze stayed glued to the book. He seemed to take no notice of his flustered brother's presence.

Edward growled lightly, he was _sick_ of people ignoring him tonight. What had he done to deserve this cold shoulder treatment?

None too gently, Ed grabbed Al's shoulder, forced him to turn around and glared into his eyes.

"Do you think it's fun to scare the shit out of me?"

Alphonse blinked a few times then his eyes snapped open wider.

"Brother?" He cautiously questioned.

Edward snorted, "Who did you think was calling you all this time?"

Al stared at his brother a moment longer. "Sorry Brother. I didn't hear anybody calling."

Sighing at the complete look of innocence being given to him, Ed plopped down next to him and waved a hand at the apology. Sometimes he wished Al weren't like him in that area. They could become totally absorbed into any literature, act the part of a breathing and hardly blinking zombie and not even bother to hear anything other than the words they were reading.

"So what were you looking at?"

Alphonse relaxed a bit. He was positive that he had seen his brother's eyes _glowing_ a moment ago. Naturally, they were a brilliantly highlighted shade and appeared to hold their own radiance without sunlight. But what he had just seen… It was as if Ed's pupils disappeared entirely, only to be replaced by a burning molten gold. He glanced back at the deceptive eyes again. They looked normal enough. Al shook his head and decided that it must have been a trick of the light, because really, such a thing would have been _impossible_.

"I was just browsing at my high school yearbook."

"Really," Ed asked dubiously, "then why haven't you turned from this page yet _if_ you were just… browsing?"

When a bright blush lit up Al's face at being found out, Edward grinned and reached to snatch the book away.

"Stop it Brother! It's no big deal!"

"Then why're you hugging that thing to yourself like a _lost _love?" He chuckled at first, though the amusement died away at the lack of denial reaching his ears.

Alphonse was inspecting every molecule of dust currently on their floor, avoiding Ed's gaze entirely.

"Al?"

"It's nothing Brother, just-" He began tracing his finger on the cracks below him. "-You remember that girl I… liked back in school?"

Edward nodded, "You mean the one that you absolutely fell for and refused to introduce me to? Sure I do."

"Well, I never told you, but I asked her out to one of the school's dances. And she said 'yes'."

"Really?"

"Yeah, but she never showed up."

"Oh, I'm sorry Al." Ed put a hand on his brother's shoulder comfortingly. He could understand completely. When he had to leave Roy, he gazed at the one picture he'd taken of his lover and hid it under his pillow. So, he could relate.

"And I was so mad at her because I thought she did it as a joke. You know, like girls do in front of their friends to make them laugh?"

Ed nodded.

Tears gathered in Al's eyes, "I went back to school after that weekend and found out that she had been attacked the night of the party on her way to our house."

He pulled Alphonse into his shoulder and let him cry there. Strong hands clutched at the fabric of Ed's shirt, the book fell to the ground.

"Was it _my_ fault that she died, Brother? I mean, if I hadn't asked her in the first place, then she never would have been near the murderer at all."

"No Al, it's not your fault and it isn't hers either."

"Then who am I supposed to blame? I really loved her, Ed. Whenever she smiled, it lit up the entire room; she was pretty and so nice to me. And in return _I _went and killed her."

Edward pulled Alphonse back from him, "You listen to me." He hissed dangerously. "I don't want to hear you angst over how it was your fault, alright?" Al nodded mutely after a moment. "If you want someone to blame then blame the one who _killed_ her."

Possibly from being told it was alright to blame someone other than himself, Al buried his nose into Ed's coat and sobbed for all he was worth.

Edward merely held him. It was really the only thing he could do given the situation. "What was her name?" He asked lightly out of curiosity.

Al sniffled, "Winry."

Ed's sight drifted to the forgotten book adorning their floor, "That sounds like a pretty-" He sucked in a mouthful of air and nearly choked himself in the process.

When the arm muscles surrounding him contracted spontaneously Alphonse asked, "Brother?"

Instead of replying Edward ripped away from Al and dashed to their bathroom. He ignored the shouts from his little brother of wondering what was wrong and proceeded to dump his breakfast into the toilet.

_Oh god…_

He spit a last bit of bile, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared at his reflection in the mirror.

He looked as if he had seen a ghost.

But in reality he _had_.

Ed covered his mouth again as his stomach lurched violently.

_Holy fucking shit…_

Alphonse poked his head into the open doorway. He winced sympathetically at the lurching noises breaking through Edward's throat.

"Are you okay Brother? You didn't get sick did you?"

Closing his eyes tightly, Ed braced his left hand onto the sink top. "I'm fine," He whispered.

That face of a frightened girl, younger than him, more innocent than him, better than him, burned into the back of his eyes haunted him every night and day. The first life he had taken and the first time Pride had emerged from darkness, she had come back to see him once again. Her blue eyes shone in the yearbook carelessly lying on the floor, face pulled into a bright smile.

_What the hell have I done?_

* * *

Edward lay on top of his blankets, musing over what he had just learned. After assuring Al again, he pleaded with the boy to just go to sleep and that yes he was fine.

But he wasn't.

_You know Chibi; you dwell _far_ too much on the past._

He ignored the voice.

_I mean look at you! You're trying to revive a relationship from back then that's _dead_, you're whining over some spilt blood from a girl and, you know, it's really becoming quite old._

'I wonder who I have to thank for that?' Ed silently questioned.

_You blame this on me? It was your idea to leave Mustang, and you were the one who killed that blonde, not I._

'You made me do it! You left me with no choice, you bastard!' He screamed at the smugly innocent tone he was receiving.

_Ah ah ah, Edo. There is _always_ a choice._

'Not with you there isn't…'

As Pride laughed and replied with a _So true Chibi, so true, _Edward went back to ignoring him.

What had he _done_ to deserve this?

* * *

"Brother, there are some men at the door! They say they have to talk to you!"

Al's bellowing voice echoed in his head, sending his already present headache into a beautiful migraine. He felt at present like telling his informative secretary down there to shove off and let himself fall back asleep. Back into a time when there was no blood, no guilt, only him, Al and Roy.

"Edward!"

Ed snarled at threw off the covers, "I'm coming already!"

The sudden loudness emerging from his own head and the act of him sitting up far too quickly caused the left side of his face to throb, and little black dots spotted his vision momentarily.

He needed a cigarette.

Luckily for him, he had not bothered to change out of his clothes and thus was ready to greet the visitors disturbing him _before_ eight AM.

Edward stomped down the stairs defiantly, lit a stick from his coat pocket and came to where Al and three other men were standing.

"What's this all about?"

The first, a corpulent man with a balding head, was the one to ignore him.

"Are you Edward Elric?"

"Yes," He said exasperatingly, "Now what the hell do you want this early in the morning?"

Both of the other men looked to their superior, as if for confirmation and at his command of, "Arrest him." they complied.

"What are you doing?!" Alphonse yelled while they latched handcuffs onto a bewildered blonde.

"You, Edward Elric, are under arrest for the _murder_ of the former Captain Mustang, of this town's police division. You shall be taken to a holding cell where you will await trial. Anything you say-"

Al cut the droning man off, stopping his speech, "He _couldn't_ have done that!"

The Sergeant was unfazed by the interruption, "-will and can be held against you in court. So _I_ suggest you come with us peacefully and quietly."

The two began ushering Ed out of his own home, shoving him into the back of a police car.

Alphonse ran out of their house, "Brother, this is crazy! You can't let them do this!"

Despite his uncertainty about the issue Edward smiled shakily, "It'll be okay, Al." Then the door slammed closed.

Both of the lackeys entered with him and started up the engine. The Sergeant however, remained outside and was speaking to another man that Ed hadn't noticed until then.

And as the car drove away, he gasped at the smirking face of one _'Park Bendley' _as he turned his head to watch them leave.

The cigarette fell from Ed's lips.

Finally, Edward understood. He remembered why the guy who had hired him had seemed so familiar, like he had seen him before. Because the man was Captain Haruko, a man who was at the same rank as Mustang used to be.

When Pride's words of, _Finally we get to see some real action! _met his ears, Ed found that he couldn't disagree.

The sparks were going to fly, and for once he didn't even dream of blaming it on his alternate half.

* * *

_AN: Finally, some of that long buried plot (covered with dust and grime) emerges! So, thank you to reviewers, and hopefully you'll comment again for this chapter. _


	7. Blank

**_Blank-_**

"I'm innocent!"

The exclamation was ignored as the guard left from the second round of questioning for a long needed break.

"I have an alibi. And besides, has anyone actually seen Mustang dead?" Stopping in his tracks, footsteps faltering, the officer turned back to him and sneered. Edward smiled, "Yeah, that's what I thought. I bet no one in your department even looked for a corpse; you're just trying to place the blame on me. Well, I'll save you the trouble of another interrogation: I am fucking innocent."

"Just stay here, boy. Some unlucky officer will be back to question you further." With the keys placed in the lock and the door open mid-swing, the man paused. "Oh, and Elric, shut the hell up for at least five minutes. People in this building need to think, and they cannot do so with you screaming your violent obscenities every two seconds."

"Bastard, if you'd just listen to me, I wouldn't have to scream."

The door closed abruptly, echoing in the small room and Edward sighed. In repulsion he tugged on the cuffs currently linking him to the table. They were secure and supposedly a person could not get out of them without a key.

"Fuck," the blonde whispered, letting his head fall harshly to the desk.

Something was _definitely_ wrong, and he had a distant feeling that he was stuck in the midst of it.

* * *

Roy Mustang glared for all he was worth, appreciation flooded through his veins that Alphonse had the sense to call him directly after his brother was taken to prison. Who knows what would have happened, and in reality he had a right to be there. Not just for Edward (though that certainly was on his mind), but for himself as well. After all, he was accused of being dead. What better way for him to gain back Edward's innocence than present himself before the accusers?

Triumphantly, he rang the desk's bell, in hopes to gain someone's attention, while also taking note of the fact that no one appeared to be there. On a Thursday nonetheless.

A woman crept from behind a screened room and came to the front of the desk, her face tied into a bored look. "How can I help you, sir?"

"Edward Elric. I need to speak with him," Roy saw the slight twitch in her eye, as if a tick had formed beneath the skin. Yet he continued on, "I was told that he was brought here two hours ago upon accusation."

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear with her hand jittering slightly, and to Mustang's predictions, acted as if the boy were not there. "No one of that name has entered these doors. I've been on shift since six this morning."

"You're sure?"

"Positive."

A smirk fluttered onto his face, one that he made no move to stop, and he pointed to the black jacket hanging on a coat rack, red handkerchief poking out from the pocket. "Then why is _his_ coat over there?"

A drop of sweat distinctly rolled down her cheek.

* * *

He moaned deeply at the blast of hot air which blew onto his forehead from a vent up above. Frowning at the offending heat, Ed slung his head back over his chest and groaned.

How much longer was he going to have to stay here?

_You know, I could always break us out of here. It'd be a snatch Chibi; we'd be out in time for dessert. _The voice told him slyly.

_Shut up Pride. My head hurts enough without you trying to piss me off. Go away. _Edward rubbed at his eyes using his left hand and unconsciously jerked with the other.

_Do you want to get out of here or not?_

He paused, _That depends. If I let you, would you hurt anyone?_

The voice was silent.

Ed chuckled lightly. _I knew it._

_I… won't kill anyone. That good enough for you, Edo? It's really the best I can do._

_Fine. But as soon as real trouble starts you give the control back to me._

Pride grinned manically, secretly soaring about a chance to finally have freedom, and even the chance to cause bodily harm. _You have a deal._

Edward thought briefly, as his consciousness began to dwindle away to nothing that if his alter half went out of control, there was really _nothing_ he could do about it.

* * *

"Who are you, sir?"

He withdrew slightly, the thought upon his mind that he hadn't addressed himself by his title in years at this place. "Roy Mustang, the one who you people _claim_ that Mr. Elric killed."

She drew in a sharp breath of air, eyes locked viscously with his, refusing to look away. That, however, did not stop her from leaving.

Despite his protests, she slipped back into the screen in which she came from. There really was nothing he could do about it.

Roy was about to slam his fist into the desktop out of his irritating frustration, but the audible _splash_ that sprang to his ears behind him left the man spinning backwards.

Standing at an instant coffee machine was Maes Hughes, disposable paper cup at his feet, coffee all over the tiled floor, and still pouring slowly from the machine's spout. His mouth was open like a breathing fish as he gaped at the sight before him.

Mustang had to admit, that were his need to find Edward not so dire, the scene before him would have looked amusing.

"Cat got your tongue, Hughes?" Roy teased lightly, recalling how the man before him (currently speechless) used to rant off about his daughter to everyone on the base.

He chuckled weakly and began to wipe up the spilt coffee with some napkins and Mustang went to help him.

"What brings you here, Roy? I haven't seen you here since you left. Must be something _pretty_ important," As Hughes spoke; he didn't look his friend in the eye. He kept his gaze onto the floor to where the mess was nearly gone.

"Well, I'm sure you remember the shrimp Edward."

"Sure I do."

Roy grinned, "It seems he's gotten himself into trouble once again."

This time, Maes did look up to him with a serious gaze measured in his eyes. "I'd have thought you'd be smarter now," he sighed as he stood up and stretched his back. "Don't you recall what happened the last time you got involved with the kid? Don't get me wrong, I liked him enough, but, I didn't expect you to want to throw away what you have left for one kid."

"That's what is amusing. I used to _swear_ that he would be the death of me. And apparently, he was just arrested for killing me. To make matters worse, I can't get to where he is."

Hughes paused thoughtfully, "_I_ can."

* * *

Slowly he opened the heavy door with the keys Hughes gave him, as his friend posed as a lookout in the hall. What he saw nearly made him choke on his saliva.

Edward was standing directly in the middle of the room, trails of blood dripping from his wrist and a pair of cuffs stained red tossed onto the ground. His eyes were directed to the floor.

"Ed?" Roy cautiously questioned, aware of how impulsive the kid could be if startled. He inched his way over, grasped the slim shoulders and gave him a light shake. "Edward, snap out of it. We need to get out of here."

The blonde tilted his head to the side, eyes still obscure from view and when Roy grabbed his chin in an attempt to force him to face forward a smile graced his lips.

In horror, Mustang gazed into _blank_ eyes.

A hard and quick punch flew into his gut, nearly keeling him over. But his grip stayed onto the shoulders while the kid jerked violently.

"Edward! Stop- We don't have time for this."

The kick that broke onto his shin enlightened Roy on just what was happening. This was _not_ Edward.

"You're the same as then, aren't you… Pride?"

Pride snarled at his primitive captivity, prepared to bite Mustang on the hand to escape. He ignored the cries of his other self.

Roy smirked when the sharpened teeth neared his thumb. "If you bite me, I'll bite you back."

At the declaration, Pride ceased struggling and grinned.

Mustang took this opportunity to spin the blonde around so that his back was against Roy's chest and pinned his there. Pride's head lolled on his shoulder, and he turned his head to look Roy in the eye.

"Death is upon you. Whether _he _wishes it or not."

"Who is _'he'_? Do you mean Edward?"

Shrugging as best he could, Pride refused to answer, allowing himself to be dragged past the threshold and out into a limited freedom.

Hughes smiled slightly at the sight of the now older boy, wondering where all those years had gone. "You ready to go?" He asked though already knowing the answer.

Roy nodded, picking the silent Pride up in a bridal style hold. Continuing on, he refused to react to the look of confusion on Maes' face for his actions.

He opened a side exit, ushered the two out watching as Mustang carried the kid who everyone had believed stole his life. Normally, Maes wouldn't let himself fall to such horrible thoughts of a nice kid like Edward. But he had to admit, that when all had been said and done on that day, he had blamed Ed. And worst of all, he had tried to convince his friend of the same.

However, he as a married man was not blind. Those small gestures of affection were still there, even if the kid was acting kind of strange. Roy never had been good at _hiding_ his feeling when it came to Edward.

Although, from what Roy had told him in a quick summary, if Ed really had been hired to kill off Mustang in an assassination, then Hughes presumed something big. Whatever shit he had stepped into now was stuck to him, in a way that he could not remove.

This time, he resolved, he would not abandon _either_ of his friends to be fed to the unseen wolves.

"I don't know what's going on, but I'm going to find out," He whispered to the air.

This time, he would help rather than be childish and blame problems on a sixteen year old kid.

* * *

Edward wondered vaguely just where the light had gone, and why it was suddenly so dark. And was he hallucinating, or was Mustang's dark scent flooding into his nose?

Maybe this was a good dream.

A fast heartbeat pulsing on his arm told him otherwise.

Did that mean that Pride managed to get them out?

He opened his eyes carefully, aware now that a jacket belonging to a certain dark haired man was draped over him and was covering his eyes.

"Where are we going?" Ed mumbled after settling his nose back into Roy's shoulder comfortably.

"My house. If they think I'm dead, then it's likely they won't look there."

Immediately Edward panicked, "But, what about-"

"Don't worry. We'll get Al first, and he'll be coming with us."

He was about to thank Mustang for being so bluntly generous (though not quite read to admit that he could walk on his own). But, the sight of Roy's small _limp_ as he favoured his right leg sent Ed's brain into his memories.

"You idiot!" He seethed, pushing against Roy's chest, pulling them both to a halt in their jog.

Edward recalled hurting him, remembered startling him, but most of all he knew that Roy hadn't backed down after all that. And that pissed him off.

"I could have killed you; why the hell didn't you get _out_ of there before I did?"

Roy looked down to the blonde head, noticing the tears dripping onto his sleeve. "I knew that you wouldn't."

"Did you not see me in your old age? I was standing there with no control over my body. Of course I could have killed you, and who are you to say that I wouldn't have?"

He wanted to put his hand behind the small neck, just irking to touch some of Edward's skin. Instead, Roy settled for pulling him closer and nuzzling his face lightly. "You and Pride are different people, not the same. I knew you wouldn't do it, and was hoping that he wouldn't."

Ed blushed at the hint of a declaration, "I'm sorry for kicking you." In an apology, he chastely kissed Mustang.

"This is worth it," Roy grinned as he leaned in for seconds.

Somehow, Edward found that he couldn't disagree, despite the declarations of hate toward this man coming from Pride; Ed desired to declare something _else_ entirely.

* * *

_AN: I can't believe some people honestly thought I would kill off Roy, though if I was, it certainly wouldn't be in the sixth chapter. Comment if you wish._

_As well, this has been written since Wednesday, but the site wouldn't let me post it. _


	8. Bereavement

_**Bereavement-**_

"Come on, we really should clean off your hand." Roy dragged the unwilling Edward behind him into his small bathroom, forcing the boy to sit on the counter. He grabbed a bottle of disinfectant and some gauze. From the looks of the blood crusted appendage, Roy mused that Ed had to have done something quite savage to it.

He dabbed some liquid on, pressed it lightly to the scrapes and tried to block out the painful hissing that resulted.

"You sure did a number on yourself." Roy commented idly. "What were you trying to accomplish?"

Edward averted his gaze from Mustang and onto his wrist. Shuddering slightly he scoffed, "I was _trying_ to get out of the handcuff that asshole put me in."

A flash of disbelief crossed Roy's eyes, but he refused to acknowledge it. "I'm not surprised…"

Ed bit back a cry when Mustang's fingertips crossed into a particularly tender area. "What the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? If you were trapped in there, you'd try to get out too. And how _else_ was I supposed to get out with no keys?"

"Calm down, Ed. I only meant that I'm not surprised this happened. I've never even heard of anyone getting out of the cuffs they use. You'll have to show me how you did." Roy smirked.

He beamed at the praise. "Nope, now that I've finally gained some ground on you, what makes you think I would give it up?"

Edward did remember that is was not he who escaped from the metal prison. Yet, he decided that Mustang didn't need to know that. He would not be informed of how Ed had given control over to a lunatic portion of his mind.

"Fair enough."

As he reached over for the bandages, Roy thought he felt something odd about Ed's wrist. It was like the skin was raised a fraction higher in some places. Was he imagining it?

He ran his thumb over it and pressed a little harder. They were still there.

"Edward…" Roy gently called his name, causing the blonde to turn to him. When Ed saw how his hand was being held, and the emotion shining in those dark eyes he tried to lurch himself away.

Roy held it more tightly. "Ed…"

"Fuck off," he whispered vehemently. "Just- Just get _away_ from me."

Mustang shook his head, "Tell me why, why would you do this?"

"I… I-"

Roy never would have thought that Edward, _his_ Ed could have done something like this to himself. The sight of light scars trailing up his arm in crisscrossing thin lines pained him. Had it really become so bad that a teenager had to resort to this?

"I had to do something. I mean, I couldn't tell Al, and you weren't around anymore, so I just-" A sob escaped him as his trembling fingers grasped the arm attached to his. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Nothing, Ed." Roy continued with wrapping the bandage. He understood now, he should not have let Edward go. He should have pursued the teen instead of thinking that Ed would come back to him. It was _his_ fault. His fault that self mutilation marks were on the pale right arm. Without his gloves on, they were easy to see, as plain as day.

He glanced over and noticed cloth already tightly bound around the left arm.

"Please tell me you aren't _still_ doing this, Ed." _Please tell me that my being here is helping you._

Edward removed his treated hand to touch the other. "Only when I get too much stress," Smiling he continued, "That seems to be happening often now."

Mustang made a move to look for himself what kind of damage was done there, but Ed stopped him.

"Not now. I think we've got enough problems without it."

Rot stood up and stretched his back, helping the blonde off the counter as well. He pulled Ed closer to him, burying his nose in the silky hair. "Does it help when I'm here?" He asked softly.

Edward nodded shakily.

"Then I won't _let _you leave again."

* * *

Roy stood, mouth open in a mute shock as he tried to compose some of this thoughts.

"Are you serious?"

Brushing back his brother's bangs, Ed was careful to keep from waking the sleeping Alphonse up. "No, I've been _lying_ to you this whole time," He sarcastically commented.

That could not be right.

Roy shifted and went from leaning against his living room wall to pacing irritably around the coffee table. Haruko hiring Ed to do him in? It was not a secret that the Captain was not on friendly terms since Mustang had joined there. But for the man to want him dead seemed a little too extreme.

Suddenly a random thought entered his head. One that was so strange that Roy wondered how he had not noticed it before.

"Why you?"

Edward stilled when Al turned over in his lap and faced his stomach.

"I mean, why hire _you_ specifically?"

As per usual, anger was the first thought to surface in the smaller man's mind. "What, why wouldn't he hire me? I'm perfectly capable of taking you down!"

Mustang merely smirked at him.

Right, Ed could kill him. And that was why they were _both _here, he very much _alive_, having a conversation over _his _death. He sighed; Edward really did need to learn to control his temper.

"Think about it Ed. Haruko knew about our history together. It wasn't like we tried to hide it. Why would he pick you over all the other hit men out there?"

"Well…" He paused. "I don't know."

"Exactly. He had to have had some specific reason for picking you out of a hand full of people. And I don't think it was because of your skill."

Edward stared at him with wide eyes, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying it makes no sense. Haruko hires you to kill me, in which you don't do, and then he charges you for it and tries to imprison you. Without even gaining any real proof to my death. It's almost as if he _knew_ you wouldn't go through with it."

A tense silence filled the room at Roy's hypothesis and Ed felt his chest tighten. Why would Haruko have wanted him in jail? "I never did anything to that bastard, what does he have against me?"

Roy sighed heavily, "I'm not sure, Ed. But I think whatever we've stumbled onto is something very big. We need to watch our backs. There's no telling _who_ could be next."

* * *

Maes Hughes sucked in a large breath of air as a flashlight shone into the room he had just snuck into. He remained pressed against the shelf and was praying that the security guard would not see him.

The beam turned away, moving onto the next office.

Groaning at his idiotic plan Hughes kept on surfing through the folders in the file cabinet. Sure it had seemed simple enough: do a little check up on some of the past records here. Breaking and entering into someone's office that had more authority than him certainly had not been a apart of that plan.

But hell, it was worth the near heart attacks at every little sound.

He pulled out a thick pile of files, thick enough to be a dictionary and began to absently read them.

'_January 10, 1989._

_Subject E tells me progress has been slow with our new specimen. I am tempted to admit defeat on implanting a new type into the child. Yet, I can only hope that we will succeed. We have to._

_Apparently, my presence in the room has a positive effect on our specimen, despite what other observers had guessed beforehand. If his condition continues to progress with my visits, I shall make each more frequent than the last, to hopefully, trick the specimen into believing it is his reward._

_The specimen was also allowed time to see his immediate family for a supervised thirty minute visit. I, however, am concerned about the specimen's intentions. It seems he has been having a little too much comfort time with my partner. I shall have to change that._

_Subject E interviewed our specimen again today, and he has told me that the talk went well. While I cannot say that 'Pride' is communicating well with anyone other than the subject, I can say that it is at least a start. He especially will have to be ready in just a few more years. I will not let us fail and lose the only funding we have from our investors._

_I feel that we are so close to achieving what we have sought, but am inclined to report that my partner's nerve troubles me. He was not highly eager to begin this project in the first place. And I think the reasons I gave him to continue have begun to dwindle away from his consciousness._

_Once we achieve a complete fusion with the subject, I know that his doubts will burn away._

_Julia Douglas,_

_Head of Clinical and Physiological Department for Children.'_

Hughes pulled out a loose file with a picture attached to it. Specimen Unknown was tacked to the top in bold letters, and a photo of a young child.

"Oh my god," he whispered, not even hearing the door open behind him.

"I'm surprised that you were so stupid, Sergeant Hughes," Julia Douglass stiffly said.

Maes spun around on his heel, and was met with not just the secretary herself, but another with her.

"What are you people thinking? Doing something like this with the police's money?"

She chuckled lightly, "I don't know what you mean. As far as anyone else will know, this night never occurred, and you never came here."

"I get it," Hughes mumbled while fumbling with a jagged knife in his back pocket. "You think that by silencing me that this will stay quiet. You people are even _more_ stupid than I through you to be."

His eyes narrowed darkly as the woman hissed in anger for the other to attack.

The so-called Subject E flashed once, and then appeared directly in front of him. Cursing at his speed, Hughes took a risky throw and fired the small blade at Julia's cheek. It roughly slashed through and she screeched at the pain.

The young man before him lifted a weapon, and rather than be fast like before, Hughes noted that it was in slow motion. As if he could see the entire thing happening.

**Bang.**

Julia readjusted her frizzy hair, "Bring the body with us. We can't have any evidence."

A pair of dark rimmed glasses slipped off of the cold face and while the darkness crept into his eyes, Maes found himself thinking of only one thing.

'_I'm sorry.'_

* * *

_AN: -Hides- Don't kill me!_

_(And if you wish to see what follows after this, please review.) _


	9. Enigma

_**Enigma-**_

Edward awoke alone as he had for the past six years of his life. Granted, he had thought that by going to bed _with _Mustang, perhaps he would not feel so alone when the morning dawned and sunlight spilled into the curtains.

He sat up, holding his head in his hands.

What had happened? Surely the previous night had not all been a dream, if it were, he would not be in Roy's room, covered in his blankets.

Suddenly, he felt very alone, so deeply alone that it was as if a chill had spilled over him and left icicles in its tracks.

Turning slightly, he surveyed the room. The phone hung off the hook, beeping obnoxiously, a chair was overturned, the mirror on Mustang's dresser cracked severely down the middle. Needless to say, it appeared to have gone through hell.

Was this, he pondered, how Roy had felt when Ed had left him?

Edward stood up and left the destructed room, deciding on what he had to do. It wasn't right to keep someone so close to him in the dark. He just couldn't do it. Maybe it meant that he and Al could have continued on living like they always had, as brothers and friends, as two people in a big world who knew they could rely on the other. Maybe so. But, Ed knew that he would not be able to live with himself if he kept such and important person in his life, sheltered from the light of truth.

It was time to pay up for his sins.

Entering the kitchen, expecting to find nothing more than a lonely table and a consoling cup of coffee, the blonde was thoroughly surprised to see Al standing over the stove. He halted, staring at his oblivious little brother.

Alphonse yelped as Mustang's stove, fuelled by natural gas, spat a rather nasty flame at him and the blue fire burned his fingertips.

Ed smiled at the domestic sight. He sauntered over, grabbed Al's hand and kissed the tender skin lightly, noticing the look of bewilderment being given to him.

Normally he wasn't one for such caring gestures. Hell, he hardly even hugged his sibling, never mind doing something that a mother should. He felt that perhaps he should start doing these things before Al was no longer around, or he wasn't _there_ to do them.

"You're an idiot," He whispered fondly.

Al grinned sheepishly, he was glad to see a happier side of his brother. "And you're a hypocrite."

Turning away from Ed, Al continued prodding what appeared to be soup of some sort.

Edward glanced around, noting that it was near eleven and sat down at the table.

"What are you doing up so early, Brother? It isn't like you to get up before noon."

"Ha-ha, very funny. I woke up because it was so damn _cold_ in that room." Ed paused, grumbling about some stupid bastard probably leaving a window open somewhere.

"Well I'd imagine so. With the way you must have been leeching heat off of Roy. Without him there, you'd actually have to make your own source of warmth, instead of being a parasite."

"Yeah, I slept fine for the night until-" Suddenly, the once calm Edward became sinister. "_A parasite! _Are you trying to insinuate that I am _short_, my dear Alphonse?" He questioned far too sweetly for comfort.

Al sighed, "Not at all."

Ed grunted in approval. "So, where did that bastard go anyway?"

He sipped a bit of broth from the wooden spoon, and deeming it ready, released it from the heat. "I'm not really sure. He left a while ago." Al grabbed two bowls, poured the meal into both and handed one to Ed. "There was a phone call about twenty minutes ago that he answered. Seemed pretty upset about it too," Alphonse came to sit beside Edward. "Then he left, without at word to me. But I had assumed that he at least told _you_ where he was going. I hope nothing bad happened."

"It's probably nothing. He'll be back before we know it. Otherwise, I'll pound his fat egotistical insensitive head in for being such a moron," Ed waved his fist dramatically in the air, making as if to pulverize a non-existent Mustang.

Al giggled, "It's nice having you back, Brother."

Edward choked, while attempting to drink half of his soup at once, and coughed loudly.

Yep, this was definitely his brother. Loud, obnoxious, stubborn, and quite _refreshing_ in such a dull situation.

"What do you mean? I've been here the whole time," Ed wheezed.

"No, you were acting really strange as of late. It was like… you were not yourself." The blonde inhaled sharply, trying not to think just how true that statement was. For a reason unknown to even him, Pride's voice seemed to echo louder in his head. Louder and louder and louder until he was _shouting_ at the very peak of his lungs. "But it's fine now. You're back to your old self," Alphonse smiled to him, a smile so pure that it screamed to Ed's very soul.

"Alphonse," He whispered quietly. "There's something I have been keeping from you. Something I should have told you long ago, yet I kept quiet about it until now. I guess I was a little scared of what your reaction might be."

Edward gripped his left wrist tightly, holding onto it with such an iron-like vice, he vaguely feared he may be cutting off the blood.

"I- I'm…" He faced his brother's eyes head on; knowing that from this point there was no turning back. "I'm a murderer, Al."

"A what? You, you can't be serious Ed. You're lying aren't you?" Al felt tears build in his eyes and he knew nothing but absolute anguish when his brother, rather than deny everything and anything he had just spoken, tilted his head down in shame. "You're joking…"

His fingernails bit into his soft, but already scarred skin. "_No I'm not_!" He gushed in desperation. "I'm a murderer; I've killed people for money. I killed Ross and I tried to get Roy too. I just let it happen all around me." Ed slammed both of his fists onto the tabletop and let his salty tears fly into the air from his violent motion. "Don't you see, Al? I'm a fucking _monster_!" He screeched.

A slap penetrated the cries of the older Elric and Edward reached up slowly to touch the pink section on his cheek. He looked to Al, standing before him with his hand vehemently tossed to the side after the blow. "Al…"

Alphonse roughly embraced him in a bone crushing hug. "Don't you _dare_ say things like that."

"But, Al, I-"

"No!" Al yelled, silencing Ed completely. "You're my brother, not a monster. You're one of the kindest and smartest people I've ever known. You wouldn't do those kinds of things to innocent people and people you cared about."

Edward pushed Alphonse away from him, tears still blinding his vision. When the younger tried to near him, craving the heat of their embrace, Ed cried, "Don't come near me! Don't touch me, don't hug me, and don't love me-"

"Brother?"

"I'm a monster-"

"Edward!"

"_I killed Winry!"_

Al stared at him, shock running through his features. His mouth hung open, slack with no words to even comprehend to say.

"I slaughtered her Alphonse. I ran a thick blade over her throat and watched her as she died. I was the one. Me! _I_ am the one you should hate with all of your being! And do you know why I did it _my Brother_? Because I was too damned weak! I let something else take control of me for its own selfish reasons and I _killed_ the one you loved!"

Al fell to his knees, quite and dry sobs retching forth from his throat. Wrapping his arms around his abdomen tightly, he rested his forehead onto the cold tile floor.

"I'm a monster," Edward whispered, and then…

He was gone.

* * *

Roy briskly followed Hawkeye down, past the media, and to the south entrance of the police station.

"You never did tell me _who_ it was that was hurt," He commented idly.

"Who it was has not been confirmed. But," she opened the door with a silver key and led him inside, "I think that you'll be able to come to the same conclusion as I did when I saw."

Roy sighed and let her lead the way. Really, to have been called early in the morning, commanded out of his warm bed with a sleeping Edward curled up to his chest and to be forced to come back where he had just been yesterday was very tiring. When this small ordeal was over he wanted nothing more to sneak back to his house and go back to the blonde he had been without for so long. It had to be karma. The kid finally comes back to him, stays over at his house and does not sneak off into the night and Roy just had to be called away. Who was to say that Ed _wouldn't_ leave now that Roy was not there to make sure he would not?

Granted that Riza had sounded awfully upset when she phoned. But did she forget that he wasn't a police man anymore? That murder investigation cases no longer concerned him and that he didn't do this sort of thing anymore? The only action he had gotten in years compared to the past week was when a kid vandalized some government property and Mustang had to chase him for eight blocks when he ran.

Hawkeye came to a stop at an office and let him inside to survey the situation himself while she stood guard. Apparently, the media trying to cover the rumoured murder occurring in the building was being held up by all the guards and officers on shift today at the opposite end. They were trying to convince the national populace that nothing of the sort occurred. All those except ones still loyal to Roy who had helped him sneak in, as they were the only real security.

Roy glanced around the room lazily. Nothing looked to be out of place. He walked in, prepared to berate Riza for wasting his time with some rumour. That is, until he heard a loud crunch and left something beneath his boot.

Squatting down, he extracted a pair of (now broken) glasses from his sole. At first he thought nothing of them, wondering who would be stupid enough to lose an item so useful. But as he inspected them closer, he found something else out.

On the frame were faint marks of pink wax crayons.

He recalled Maes bragging to him once about his child Elicia and her amazing coloring skills, and that she had even decorated his glasses in her love. And out of pure adoration swore he would never wash them off.

They fell to the ground with a soft ping, a lens popping out and shooting underneath the desk. His hands trembled as he tried to deny what he knew with all reason.

Roy tore his eyes to the door, catching Riza's gaze. She nodded gravely and bowed her head.

In anger he beat his hands onto the carpeted floor, cursing at his friend's stupidity.

How could the bastard go and get himself murdered in one night? How could he do it? _How_ in heaven's name could he just-

Roy's thoughts abruptly halted while he stared at that floor.

_Carpet…_

He ran his gloved fingertips over the scratchy surface. Didn't carpet soak up liquid, and didn't people bleed when they died? The rumour was that someone had died of a gunshot wound, and didn't guns make holes that made the victim bleed?

Why then, was there _none_ of the substance present on that carpet floor?

Even if Maes had been shot and whoever did it tried to cover it up, blood stains of that magnitude wouldn't come off of those tightly bound cords of thread. There would have been no time to patch it over or install a new floor.

Something had happened to Maes Hughes and someone was trying to cover it up.

Roy crawled over to the desk, reaching underneath to retrieve the ejected lens. But instead, he also acquired something he did not expect.

Whatever Maes had stumbled onto in that office was blackmail worthy enough for someone in the building to desire to silence him. And, Mustang decided, he had just found a big piece of that unsolved puzzle.

In his hand, he drew back the piece of glass and a picture.

A picture of a much younger Edward Elric, dubbed underneath the image as being five years of age.

"What the _hell_ is going on?" He whispered quietly as he stared at the image.

Roy had a sudden feeling that he should madly dash back to the kid before he did anything stupid. He could only hope that Ed would be smart enough to stay at his house until Roy returned.

Who was to say that Ed wouldn't leave now that Roy was not there to make sure he would not?

Who was to say that Hughes' attacker would not be on the lookout for the blonde so they could _finish_ the job?

* * *

_AN: Thank you to reviewers! Well, that certainly was a mouthful! I have to say that this chapter was by far the easiest one to write. The words just seemed to flow into my caffeine drugged brain. Though I would hate to think that would mean it was worse. -.-_

_If you did like it, please comment. _


	10. Estrange

_**Estrange-**_

Bursting through the front door wildly, allowing it to slam back on his painted wall, Roy entered into his house. He glanced quickly to a carpet decorating the entrance. The familiar heavy boots weren't there. Neither was the jacket that he had graciously lent to the blonde as his was left forgotten in a police station.

Not a good sign…

Roy came to his kitchen, appearing normal. Though the body lying completely quiet on his darkly tiled floor spoke otherwise.

"Alphonse!" He knelt down by the 'body' he discovered and checked for a pulse.

Had the bastards come already? Did they knock out Al and take Ed away with them? Or were they both dead?

A moan emitted from the seemingly dead boy, a weak pulse following beneath Roy's fingertips. He sighed in relief when Al sat up.

Blinking awkwardly Alphonse scrubbed at his sleep-logged eyes, slightly annoyed at being woken up from his eventual peaceful sleep.

"Al, where is your brother?" Mustang's worried face came to view.

Al paused and looked down to where faint water marks were on the floor. His brother had left, that much he was sure. Then he had broken down on crying for so long… He glanced outside, and with the darkening sky, assumed that he must have fallen asleep for a while.

Then, why wasn't Ed _back_?

"Where is Edward?"

"I don't know."

* * *

Edward was led down a series of confusing tunnels and pathways, each turn managing to make him more confused than the last.

Where had he been before? He… He fought with Al, right? Then left to cool off and let his younger brother digest all that was said, entirely intending to return. But, he had not expected a slender hand to crack the back of his neck when he wandered into a deserted alleyway.

His head was pounding furiously, a dull throbbing pulsing on one side, which he was sure would turn into a migraine with enough provocation.

It was dark enough in… wherever he was, that he could have sworn he were blindfolded and being led to some desolate location.

But then a dark figure coming out from behind him to open a door with a keypad told him otherwise.

"Hey, where the hell are we?"

The person ignored him, grabbed his wrist and pulled Ed through the threshold.

Edward struggled at the hold. "Bastard! Let go of me!" His nails bit at the other's bare wrist, hard enough to draw some blood.

"Chibi, I'd stop this pointlessness if I were you. Just because you are special, doesn't mean you're not expendable."

That _voice_…

Ed paused, completely halting in his dragging steps, much to the dismay and annoyance of his leader. His eyes were wide with a sign akin to horror.

That was _his_ voice.

The voice he was forced to hear every time he was talked into taking someone else's life. A sultry tone laced through with deceit and sadism. God, how he hated that voice.

"Pride?" Edward questioned quietly, awake of how insane he must sound. He hoped to heaven that what he thought was not true. It was bad enough to have the dark voice in his head. But for that voice to actually be a real person would be pure hell.

He wouldn't be able to stand it.

Turning back around to look at his face, the other laughed. "So that idiot wasn't lying. It really _did_ work. Well, you've got us mixed up Edo. _I_ am Envy."

Violet flares positively glowed at the confusion on Ed's face at the declaration. "It seems you don't remember me," He commented idly. "Maybe that's for the better."

* * *

Edward grumbled at being thrown in a grungy cell like some rag doll. For someone who seemed to be necessary to these sadistic people, they sure weren't treating him too well. What was he: an animal? A pungent stink met his nostrils, burning his throat down to the delicate lung tissue. And when had someone last _cleaned_ in here? He'd be lucky if he weren't diseased by the end of it.

That is, if he was alive in the end.

He sat down leaning against the wall; at first thinking he was alone until he heard a low groan. Granted, it had startled him initially as he could not see who the voice had originated from.

Being a young man that was cursed to hear Pride's voice in his head, he dreaded the thought of another entity appearing in his mind.

"Who's there?" The owner tiredly asked, shifting a bit in the darkness, moonlight being the only source of light in the secluded cell. The pale blue shimmer reflected off of bleak eyes.

Apparently they were sitting on opposite sides of the wall, and judging by the grunts coming from his companion; Ed guessed that he was trying to sit up.

The blonde crawled on his hands and knees over to his cellmate.

He froze.

"_Hughes?"_

The dark head raised in disbelief.

"… Edward?"

At the confirmation of a recognized voice, Ed braced his hands on the larger man's shoulders and pulled him into a sitting position, careful of the awkward angle his arm lay at.

Maes shook his groggy head, willing his light-headedness to subside. He stared at the youngling before him who held an eager look in his eye. And truthfully, he really couldn't blame the kid. When they had first brought him here, alone, with a severe concussion, he had been a little more than worried. But now with another head here, it might be easier to think of how to get out.

"Hughes, why are you here? Did some bastard kidnap _you_ too?"

"Not really. I was tranquilized and brought here a while ago." He chose to keep quiet about why he was attacked. That picture of an infant Elric haunted his thoughts as the same vision sat down on his haunches in front of him.

What he had read in that file: it had to be some sick joke. This all just had to be.

Though before anymore could be said, the door creaked loudly on its hinges, and Envy entered.

"Come on Chibi," he grunted while pulling Edward along, "We're ready for you now."

Hughes watched as the boy was taken away and wondered why they were both being kept alive. The blonde was obviously essential to the plans these sick people held. But, Maes could have been killed at point blank range back at the office.

And he was hesitant to think why he had not been.

Not that he was complaining about being alive.

He had a family to get back to after all. He'd be damned if these bastards could keep him from that.

* * *

'_You are no one.'_

I am someone. I'm **me**.

'_You are only whom I say you are.'_

You liar! Why should I listen to you?

'_You are blank; your mind knows nothing of memories or of your past.'_

Memories?

'_You do as I tell you.'_

Fuck you, bastard. Bastard? Isn't that supposed to mean something? I thought it was someone important, someone I cared about… But I don't care about you. So it can't be.

'_Your name is not Edward Elric. It is Pride, and you are one of us.'_

Pride? That sounds familiar… But I like Edward better. I wish I could be him instead.

'_You obey our Master just like you do me.'_

I have another Master? I thought people each were their **own** Master. But I have another one?

'_I am Envy and you are my servant. You do not question what I say.'_

But I don't understand. You seem- like I should know you.

'_You are a killer; you feel nothing from doing it.'_

A killer! You've got to be joking!

'_You are an empty shell. You have no soul.'_

Don't humans have souls? Am **I** not human?

'_You remember none of your friends, family or lovers.'_

That makes me alone, though. And I don't **want** to be alone.

'_You are a slave of this man. Do you understand?'_

Yes, I understand. I still don't like you.

The blonde head inclined slightly before returning to normal.

'_Good.'_

'_He has the same authority over you that I do. Whatever he does, you allow.'_

I hate him. Why?

'_He is your everything and you must not allow any harm to come to him. You are his protector. You will not hesitate to kill those who would try to hurt him. You fell no sorrow, regret nor pain. You are invincible. No one can touch you. You will be obsolete if he says so. He is your Master.'_

Protector. How can a protector be a killer too? Doesn't a hero do that? I have no emotions…. Maybe that's why I don't hate you so much now.

'_Do you understand, Pride?'_

**I want to be free.**

Golden eyes, overtaken entirely by the dull color, refused to blink or move.

"Yes," He whispered.

* * *

Roy sighed and cradled his head in his hands.

"So he told you about his… profession?"

Alphonse nodded lightly, tears notably present in his eyes. If Mustang knew what Ed had already told him, then he _must_ have been admitting the truth. But, his brother couldn't really kill people.

Could he?

_No. _Al decided determinedly. Edward wouldn't do things like that.

His brother was the one who had begged their father to let them keep a stray cat because it would have died if left alone.

"That stupid brat," Roy murmured tiredly. "I should have known he would be so stupid as to run away afterwards. Who knows where he could have gone…"

"Sir, you don't actually believe that Brother would do that, do you?"

Mustang nodded lightly. He recalled having a gun pressed onto him twice from that same blonde. He knew that at the time, no remorse for his actions had even crossed the boy's mind. It was as if he were trained to kill. Like a soldier.

_But that was ridiculous._

"Yes, I do. I've seen his anguish when he talks about it, and that convinces me enough." Roy stood up. "That's why I've got to find him before someone else does." Someone like whoever got Hughes.

"Then… I'll come too! It's my fault that he ran away in the first place." Al followed the older man's actions and was prepared to help, for Ed's sake. Considering all that his big brother sacrificed for him, surely he could put a halt on his feelings on the subject and console his brother. They could sort it out later.

"No. I need you to stay here. There's a gun upstairs in my room, keep all of the doors locked and use the weapon if need be. That last thing we need is for you to be kidnapped." Roy negotiated quietly, and the youth had no time to protest further, as the door closed heavily.

"… and the last thing I would need is for your protective sibling to _dismantle_ me if you did." He mumbled.

* * *

Mustang quickly rounded the corner to a place he knew from long ago. Had he not travelled this same road many times before? When he was still a Sergeant in training, seeking advice from the popular bachelor Captain Haruko. That was before he had surpassed in ranks and came to be level with the man. And, the man had begun to grow hostile towards him. Whether from jealousy or envy, Roy caught him _staring_ when he and Ed would walk past hand in hand, his glare all the more menacing.

It was as if he wanted what Mustang now had.

Roy snorted at the thought. It was a_bsurd_, really.

He had questions for Haruko, and they came before finding Ed. Because he had a feeling that the man had a large part to do with their arising troubles lately.

The large mansion came into his view. He quickly dove into a decorative bush and spied at the front door, waiting for the moment to spring up and demand the bastard for answers.

The door opened, and Haruko stepped out. But so did someone else.

Roy gasped sharply, hardly able to believe what his eyes were trying to tell him. Blinking sharply, he hoped to remove the delusion and continue to elude himself. But the two people remained.

Edward, _his_ Ed, was walking down the front stairs calmly with Haruko, following obediently like a puppy.

He slammed back against the wall, breathing heavily, and emotions nearly taking over him. Betrayal was what he first felt. A raw pain emanated from just below his breastbone. How could Edward _do_ this to him? Simply walk the streets of the city with Mustang's long time rival, without any care on his feelings.

Desperately searching for an outlet to exert his anguish upon, Roy peeked around the leaves again.

It appeared Haruko _('and his new pet' _Roy added snidely) were leisurely entering a car. He waited holding the door open and pushed the traitor inside, hand lingering meaningfully on the blonde's ass before climbing in himself.

Suddenly, the world seemed to be crashing in around him.

It was bad enough when Ed had left him for his own safety. But to lose him to an old fart like Haruko, as if their time together had meant nothing…

It wasn't just a blow to his pride.

It was a blow to his heart.

* * *

_AN: Not much to say. Other than this chapter was a bugger to write. I know it was pretty choppy, short and likely made little sense to you readers. -.-_

_Blegh. I hope it was alright though and would love more happy reviews! Also, before I forget: as Roy said, Haruko is not married, nor does he have children. Just thought I'd point that out so no issues on adultery arise. That would just be wrong._


	11. Masquerade

_**Masquerade-**_

He sat obediently in the back seat, waiting for his Master to enter as well. Shuffling as the car drove away he moved to the opposite window and gazed out of it.

Someone was walking out of a bush.

Pride pressed his hands against the glass more earnestly, breath fogging it up from the closeness.

That someone looked familiar.

The dark haired figure soon faded out of sight and although he leaned back into the leather, he couldn't get that man out of his mind.

He knew him, he was sure of it.

But, for the life of him, Pride could not put a name to the face.

His Master's large hand enclosed his waist and the man was forgotten.

* * *

He followed his Master through the cold dark building without hesitation. This place, though he knew not where it was or why he was here, was… comfortable. As if he had been here a thousand times. 

Besides, if Master was coming here with no protection other than Pride, this must not be a bad place.

They passed secluded rooms with clear glass. Children inside lay on the floors asleep, their eyes glazed over with something akin to disinterest. Somehow, that sight was welcomed by him, natural.

A man tied to a chair in the corner of a hall caught his attention. Blood dripped down his split lip and he appeared roughed up. His Master left him alone in the hall, as he went and talked in a room to their right.

Pride glanced at the man again, wondering if he was supposed to follow his Master or wait. He looked at the door. It was dark. Pride hated the dark. So he slowly crept up to the sleeping man.

He noted the scruffy beard, dishevelled clothes and pungent stink that surrounded the prisoner. A light but uneven snore rose from the man's open mouth. Each couple of breaths ended in a hitch then a moan.

In curiosity Pride poked the man's side and was rewarded with a gasp of pain. His chest was moving funny. Maybe something was wrong with it?

Fever coated eyes met Pride's surprised ones.

He backed away three steps when the man lurched forward.

"E-Edward? What are you doing here? Escape and go find Roy!" The man hissed as he jerked his bound hands.

Pride stared at him fearfully. The guy was talking to him, right? Envy told him that Pride was his name, not this 'Edward'. Envy also said that anyone who was suspicious was supposed to be killed.

But the other name he had mentioned stopped Pride from carrying out the subliminal order. It seemed to strike a chord in him.

"What's wrong with you?" The prisoner asked again and when no recognition came his body tensed slowly. He saw the fearful look he was receiving. "Edward?"

"Stay away," Pride whispered. He backed up more until his shoulders hit his Master's chest. Strong hands grasped his arms and Pride whimpered, pointing to the man.

Cold hazel eyes glared up at Haruko's smirking face. "What the hell have you done to him?"

"I suggest you stay calm, Sergeant Hughes. You should be concerned with yourself rather than others." Haruko turned to the shivering blonde in front of him. "Come, Pride."

He watched the man as he followed his Master back out of the building.

"Master, who is Roy?" He asked quietly.

Haruko turned his head down to gape at the innocent query. "Where did you hear that?"

Pride refused to answer and let his head hang down.

"Answer!"

Rough hands painfully squeezed his wrist; he squirmed and tried to get out of the strong grip. It was hurting, Pride hated things that hurt.

"I-I don't know."

Snorting and mumbling about idiots Haruko let go of him. He entered the car they had come in, slammed the door shut. "You stay here. I'll be back for you before nightfall."

Pride wanted to cry out for his Master to wait. He hated to be left alone; he feared it more than anything. But before he could say anything the vehicle was driving away and he was left alone.

What was he supposed to do?

He didn't want to go back into the building... that scary man was there. Yet he could not just stand out there by himself.

The dark haired man from before entered his mind. His face and the name Roy seemed to fit together. Pride wanted to go to him.

His Master had told him to stay there though.

Pride glanced up at the sky. It would still be awhile before dark, right? He could just go and…

_No._

_Master said stay here_, a part of his mind argued.

_But he tried to hurt me_, he replied back.

And when no reprimand came, Pride had decided.

He would find that man and see why he seemed so familiar.

* * *

Grumbling, Roy kicked a stray stone on the street. Seeing Edward walking with Haruko, it was just infuriating. There was no way he could go back to Alphonse and report what he had found. The boy would probably understand it even less than he had. 

Sure Ed had to have been distressed after he confessed his work life to his little brother, and told him just what he had done to Al personally. Roy definitely could understand that. He would have run as well.

But running to an asshole like Haruko?

_That is something_, Roy decided, _that I would have a hard time forgiving._

Wasn't his blonde supposed to come to him for help? Edward had told him that it helped when Roy was there with him.

"Then why?" Mustang mumbled harshly as he entered a local park on the edge of town.

He sat down on the bench quietly and dully noted that this was where he and Ed had come before, when the boy had laid his secrets bare for Roy to scrutinize. If he concentrated he could still smell Edward's scent lingering beside him.

In annoyance Roy let his body flop down backwards so that he entirely took up the bench, shoes dangling off the edge.

_Ed couldn't even take up half the bench_, he thought with a smile, imaging the blonde's reaction in his head. Then he sighed.

He had done it again, hadn't he?

Every thought he had seemed to float back to the traitorous, deceiving, diminutive, stubborn, arrogant, determined, cute blonde who toyed with his emotions.

Roy chuckled. He really was hopeless.

He cupped his hands beneath his head in a makeshift pillow and gazed up at the purple sky that was nearing late afternoon.

_I must be crazy_, Roy thought with humour. Even now, it was as if he could see Ed's face above his, gazing at his with large golden eyes. Completely crazy.

Roy shut his eyes to get rid of the face he wanted to see, that haunted him.

'_Get the fuck out of here, Roy! What's the matter with you?' A flustered blonde shrieked in rage as he clutched a worn towel around his waist. 'You perverted bastard!'_

_Mustang made no move to leave and smirked, 'How was I supposed to know you were showering, Edward?'_

'_Oh gee, I don't know. Maybe because you saw me come in here and you've heard the water running for twenty minutes?' Ed paused and then glared at him suspiciously. 'You knew didn't you? You waited until I was getting out!'_

_Roy clapped his hands sarcastically. 'Brilliant deduction, shrimp. I can see why they say you're smart.'_

'_Shrimp? You ass-' Edward's famous rant was cut off as warm lips roughly pressed onto his own. His mind was dazed and hazy; all he could think of was on how nice it felt._

_That is until a wandering hand tugged on the end of his towel, the only thing preserving his decency._

_A small fist collided with the side of Roy's face and he found himself staggering backward from the force._

'_Pervert,' Edward hissed as he knelt down to the Mustang that fell on his ass. 'Are you alright, Roy?'_

'_Just peachy,' He mumbled and awkwardly tried to sit up straight. Granted, he hadn't expected the blonde to stroke his hair with a smile on his face while Roy tried to stop his eyes from spinning._

Mustang turned his head slightly, trying to make what was petting his head to continue. It felt so nice…

The hand on top his hair stilled slightly at the movement and then tentatively, like a child, it continued stroking.

Roy opened his eyes a crack. And was rewarded with falling off of the bench entirely. Edward was sitting there with a bemused look on his face, his hand hanging shaking where Roy's head had been.

* * *

Pride stared at the man curiously. He was crouched on the ground he had fallen onto, mouth hanging open as if it were just waiting for flies to creep inside. 

"Edward?" He cautiously asked.

A hint of annoyance filled him. Why were people calling him that? That prisoner did, an old lady on the street too, and now the dark haired man.

He shook his head lightly.

"Is your name, Roy?" He questioned instead, eager to avoid the subject of himself. What he remembered and what he didn't was far too confusing.

The man suddenly knelt on his hands and knees and crawled to right in front of him. His face was so close that Pride could feel the warm breath on his nose.

"Yes, Edward. Where have you been?" Roy wanted to ask why the hell he had been with Haruko, but decided against it. Something wasn't right here.

"I was with my Master. And I'm not 'Edward'. My name is Pride."

For a brief moment Roy's eyes wished to bug out of his head. Pride? Didn't Ed say that Pride was a murderous killer that acted sadistic and cruel? Mustang was sure that he had. But the key was to keep calm. The last thing he needed would be to scare him away.

"Well then, Pride, who is your Master?" Roy had an idea forming slowly as he thought; one that he prayed wasn't true.

"I think Envy calls him Haruko," Pride answered quietly. "But I don't like Master that much…"

Roy sat back down on the bench as if he were boneless and gestured for the blonde to come with him.

Pride hesitated and then climbed up, bending his knees into his chest and rested his chin on top. "That other guy called me Edward too. Why?" He asked quietly.

_Because that's who you are_, Roy wanted to say. But then something clicked in his mind.

"What guy?"

"I don't know… Master called him Sergeant Hughes, and he was talking to me like he knew me. But I've never seen him before." Pride paused. "He was the one that told me to come find you."

Hughes had sent him? That would mean he was right and Maes was still alive.

"Do you know where he was? Is it the same place they took you?"

Pride nodded. "I was _born_ there."

* * *

Roy carefully wrapped his arm around the blonde's shoulder and pulled him closer. It was a relief to know that Ed hadn't left him. Not by choice anyhow. 

Pride snuggled into the crook of his neck.

"You know, I saw you before. But I couldn't remember your name. Am I supposed to know you?"

Mustang pressed a light kiss to Pride's temple and smirked at the blush which formed. "Only if you want to."

"I do want to. Envy told me not to though."

"Who is Envy?"

"He's-" Pride started to say, but the words died in his throat when he tilted his head up to the dark sky.

In a panic he bolted up and made to run off.

"Wait! Where are you going?" Roy stood to prevent him from leaving. Now that he had got Ed back, he couldn't just let him go. Who was to say he wouldn't be able to catch the blonde a second time?

The golden irises flickered back and forth between Roy and the road. He wanted to stay, but his Master told him he was coming back at nightfall.

"I have to go back to Master. He'll be angry if I don't."

"You mean back to… Then can you get Hughes out of there, Ed?"

Pride wanted to remind the man before him that he wasn't Ed. But somehow, being called that by Roy seemed all too regular, so he let the slip slide.

"I'll try."

Roy was equally shocked when a quick brush of cold lips was pressed onto his. Although, before he could even think of what had happened, the blonde was away and gone.

Maybe if Edward could break Maes out of that place, they might have a chance. Hughes could show Roy the way back and then he could rescue Ed.

Touching his mouth softly, Roy didn't even try to fend off the small smile that spilled onto his face.

* * *

_AN: Sorry for the wait! It took me so long to plan what I wanted in this chapter. If you enjoyed it, please comment!_


	12. Converted

_**Converted-**_

'_I am always alone._

_It hurts to be by myself. They say if I'm good, I'll get to see Al soon. I miss him, and I get to read the letters he sends me. I can't send him any though._

_They won't let me._

_I had to talk with Envy again today. He scares me, but I don't let him know that._

_I want to go home._

_I want to be back with Al._

_Why won't they let me?' _Pride awoke drowsily to talking, wondering where his strange dream had come from.

"You're lucky he came back to you. How could you just leave something as valuable as him out with _no_ protection? Who knows _who_ could have gotten their hands on him."

_Envy?_

"Well, Christ. You people could have _told_ me he was not completed."

_Master?_

"I did tell you. You're just too thick-headed to remember. I only had time to wipe his mind away. With all the corruption he's had over the years, it's better for us to start with a clean slate."

"Then what about the killings he already committed? He seemed willing enough to do them."

"That wasn't him, nor was it Pride. I've told you, he was taken from us early, before we had the chance to finish. The killer you saw back then was just what he remembered _me_ telling him."

"You're saying you had influence over him, subconsciously?"

"Exactly. I mean come on, if you had someone talking and implanting ideas in your head for nearly seven years, it would get to you too. He was just recalling what I had said during those… sessions, and then taking that and evolving it into an alternate personality called, "Pride". Not the outcome we had expected, but an interesting turnout."

_Were they talking about him? Why did his head hurt so much?_

"Oh. He's waking up."

"So, you're saying he's ready now?"

"Yeah, he's _only_ Pride now, no more Chibi remains."

* * *

Master came into his room and stood over his bed.

"I've been told that you're completely functional now. Is that so, Pride?"

He nodded.

"Make sure you let him have these, Captain," Envy commented, tossing a small carton.

Haruko grimaced at the pack of cigarettes. "Why? I don't want him stinking of this crap."

"Think of it this way, he needs some form of stress relief with all that's going on in his head." He did not look convinced. Envy sighed, "We used them in his treatment years ago, so he's _already_ hooked. They calm him down, and for what you're going to make him do, I'm sure he'll need it."

"And you are so concerned for his well being because…"

"Because I spent years breaking and rebuilding his mind you tightass. Besides," Envy grinned as he glanced at the blank look on Pride's face. "he's _my_ little brother; I have a right to care."

_Brother? _That word seemed important, didn't it?

* * *

He paid little mind when the stair beneath his boot crumbled to bits. The wind howled fiercely as he shook off the debris and continued his trek.

Slipping through a slight crack in the door, Pride distastefully glanced around at the limited décor. It was dirty, dust coated everything like a miasma, and it stank of dried flowers and ashes. He shielded his nose with a thick sleeve.

A groan mingled with a high whine sounded from the other end of the room. Pride walked over, prepared to strike if need be.

Two large brown eyes glared at him distrustfully and the dog began to bark at his intrusion. When it saw that the intruder was not frightened, the beast weakly stood on its hind legs but noticeably winced at the pressure on old bones and joints.

Pride smirked at it, noting the courage to literally stand up to someone stronger than it, and then ignored it completely.

He was told nothing of killing a dog, so as long as it stayed out of his way, he would have no reason to harm it.

In the room across a narrow hall he found what he came for. A rocking chair placed in front of a blazing orange fire creaked as it rocked methodically in time with the faint classical music playing.

Pride squeezed his knife tightly, taking in a deep breath.

The chair ceased moving as the radio crackled.

"Why hello there. It's been ages since I've had a guest," A dry raspy voice spoke to him without turning to look who was there.

He held his air tightly and refused to acknowledge his presence.

"I heard Den barking earlier, but he's getting on in years, hence I assumed he was only hearing things. So tell me," The woman glanced back at the general dark area where he stood, "what might a young boy like you be doing here?"

Pride was silent.

She shrugged, "No matter. Come sit down," and patted the couch next to her chair.

Suspicious, but curious nonetheless, he crept over to her.

A small pipe was in her hands that she lit, filling the dim room with a sweet cherry scent.

Grinning at what seemed like nervousness she chuckled. "Sit. Don't be so shy."

He sat.

Pride's curiosity filtered to the stand beside her. There was a bowl of something on it. He wondered what.

"You want one? I baked them just yesterday." He carefully took a cookie without making eye contact and munched on it quietly. "Don't know why though. I'm too old for that much sugar and no one comes around here anymore. It's a habit I guess."

His _eyes_ asked why.

She sighed, "I had a granddaughter once, probably near your age. She and the family would come seeking my baking treats. When you're alone like me, you're happy to do the little things you can for people. And this was one of them."

Pride stared at the light reflecting off her glasses (courtesy of the fire). Why was she sharing such important information with him?

"But, the poor girl died years ago…" She sniffled a bit yet held her composure with a strong eye.

He felt badly for her.

"_Why?"_

She was startled that he spoke. "Oh, just some two-bit crook that decided a bright girl like her shouldn't live."

He was silent.

"Anyway, I'm sure she would have liked you. Always had an eye for handsome men…" She smirked when he blushed lightly.

Handing him a steaming cup of tea she just poured, she took notice of his melancholy expression.

"I think I have a picture around here of her."

Pride blew on the liquid, wanting to drink some, but held no desire to scald himself.

"Aha, here we are!"

She pressed the photograph in her hand and stood in front of him, as if waiting for an approval of her descendant.

He looked and then screamed. The cup fell from his hands, shattering on the wooden floor.

Bright blonde hair and stunning blue eyes greeted him. They leered at him, called out to him. They were driving him _insane_.

With a feral cry he struck his knife at the image, wanting nothing more than to silence the voices.

Blood splashed onto the couch, himself, and pretty well anything within a five foot radius.

The picture was slashed delicately in half, crimson liquid coating it and covering her eyes.

_The voices were gone._

He stepped over the woman's dying body and eagerly left the room as the barking started up again.

_It was a shame._

Pride was sent to kill one, not two, but the harsh yipes sounded too much like the girl's screams, he had to get rid of them.

The faint taste of cinnamon lingered on his tongue.

* * *

Alphonse sighed, dragging the tawny piece of yarn back and forth over the linoleum floor.

He hoped that Roy would be able to find his brother. And wished that he could have gone with him. He wanted to apologize to Ed face to face, rather than sit here and wallow in his guilt.

A cushiony pink pad swatted at the curious moving object and Al grinned. Tiny claws appeared and savagely attacked the illusive enemy.

Sure, sitting there, playing with Mr. Sprinkles was entertaining and all, but…

What if Ed was in trouble?

What if his brother was kidnapped?

Or, what if he _hated _Al now?

"Maybe that's going a bit overboard," he whispered to the only other living thing in the empty house. Well, disregarding a neglected cactus in the bathroom.

But, what if Ed did?

Al's musings were cut short when the phone noisily rang. He scrambled to get it and stubbed his toe in the process.

"Hello?"

"_Ah, Alphonse. I'm glad I caught you."_

"Roy! Did you find-?"

"_Yeah, I did."_

Al breathed a heavy sigh of relief, smiling at the cat that crawled on his feet, weaving between them.

"_I found him but…"_

That anxious fear came back at the hesitant tone on the other line. "But what?"

"_It's going to be a while before you see him again. So I just thought I'd call and-"_

**Bang!**

Al dropped the phone. Was he hearing things?

Another **bang** echoed from the front door.

Ignoring Roy's calls for him and asking what was wrong, Alphonse went to see what was making the noise.

He opened the door cautiously.

A body dropped at his feet and Al had to bite back his yell of shock. Because that wasn't just any person laying unconscious on Roy's doorstep.

It was Maes Hughes, beaten, bruised, and sore as all hell.

* * *

Haruko nodded in approval when Pride returned an hour later. It took the boy longer than he had predicted, but at least he'd done it.

Why had he asked the youth to kill a defenceless old woman? No reason in particular. He only needed to make sure that Pride was fully following orders, instead of the defective version from before.

"Pride, did you kill Mrs. Rockbell as I asked?" There was no use in asking, really. The blood soaked in the heavy coat he wore spoke on enough volumes.

He nodded.

"Excellent. You will be rewarded for following my commands." When Pride had returned to him the night before, Haruko had not questioned the spicy cologne surrounding him. No, he had no need to question. He _knew_ that smell. And by damned, he would make sure this time that the washed down ex-Captain Mustang did not put his hands on what belonged to him.

"Come here, Pride."

He complied and settled in against Master's chest. Pride ignored the wandering hands caressing him, trying to block out the heavy breathing behind the crook of his ear, and at the same time, wondering why this felt _so_ wrong.

* * *

The night came and Pride was woken up quite rudely with a harsh prod. He sat up and winced at the uncomfortable burning, but knew better than to complain.

"Now, Pride. I need help in getting rid of a special someone. I sense that this 'someone' is going to become a thorn in my side." Haruko paused, enjoying this more than he ought to be. "I believe you _know_ this 'someone', so I'm sending you to do the job, as you likely are aware of his habits better than anyone."

He relished the blank, unemotional look he was receiving.

"I expect you know of who I speak."

Pride nodded and left after dressing himself.

He gazed up at the night sky, woeful from the lack of bright stars.

He could not afford to hesitate like last time. Hence, this time he was armed with a knife instead of a gun.

"I'm coming," Pride whispered.

"My _beloved_, prepare to _die_."

* * *

_AN: So yeah, another slow update. If anybody didn't understand some of the few things I shed light on, ask and I shall do my best to answer! Ugh. The second last scene with Pride and Haruko nearly made me gag. But it was necessary I suppose._


	13. Sadism

_**Sadism-**_

_A boy, smaller than most his age, sits in the room quietly. His knees are huddled together, with his arms tightly clasped around them, hoping to acquire _some_ warmth. Tears roll down his clenched eyelids despite internal protests and yet he makes no move to wipe them away._

_The darkness surrounds him, here in this room where no light can penetrate. No windows, no cracks, no door._

_Well, not counting the latched trap door feet above his head. It is a distance that he could never reach._

_So for him, there are no outs or escapes and there is most certainly no light or warmth._

_He hasn't seen the outside in what seems to be forever. It scares him to think that he cannot even remember what his house used to look like._

_But then again, he can't even recall how his own brother looks. The hair and eyes color, skin tone, facial expressions, are all gone, somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind. And now, he simply does not have the strength nor will to call them up._

_The tiny blonde child knows why he is here. Why he was locked up in the 'Temperament' area with a dirt floor and wooden walls. No food or water is allowed to be given to him until the punishment time has expired._

_He is starving; his throat is burning, craving water. He'd even drink nasty milk to be rid of the fire sprouting on his tender throat's tissue. _

_A cough falls from him, developing into a dangerous hack and his head begins to pound on the right side. Dust lingers around his nose and mouth, obscuring his breathing and vision. It hurts his eyes._

_Now he _wishes_ he had never misbehaved._

_Envy warned him not to try to escape this place. He was told thousands of times since he came here not to bolt past the guards in desperation. Because if he ever did, they would find him and punish him._

_Finally succumbing to the bitter cold air, he withdraws his skinny arms into his cotton shirt and wraps them directly on his skin. His chest continues to shake still._

_He is tired, and the burning of his eyes is all the more suggesting that he close them, perhaps forever._

_It feels like he has been here for that long. _

_He wants to go _home.

_He wants someone to _hold _him._

_He wants to fall _asleep_ for eternity._

_He wants to _believe_ that god will save him._

_He wants to shrivel up and _die.

_Just three more days, and the specimen will get to see Al._

_He can hardly _wait.

* * *

Roy entered his home expecting to head straight for the coffee pot and then the bathroom for a relaxing shower.

However, as he glanced briefly at the living room, his plan was abruptly derailed.

Hughes lay on his couch with a spare blanket wrapped loosely around him. Alphonse sat in an old foam chair reading a book in silence.

He approached the two, regarding the first with a relieved look. At least he'd been right about Maes. Roy had a feeling he'd have a hard enough time explaining the situation to Gracia as it was, but if Hughes had managed to get himself killed; it would make it much _more_ difficult.

"Sir, is my brother with you?" Al timidly asked as Mustang collapsed into a stool opposite him. He was half afraid of what the answer would be.

Roy dropped his face into his hands, scrubbing at his tired eyes and shook his head.

_No._

How was he supposed to explain to the youth that something was wrong with Ed, to the point that he referred to himself as a separate identity? If only he forced the distressed blonde to come with him, rather than let him go freely based on an assumption that he could get him back. No matter how selfish it sounded, all he wanted was to have Edward there wrapping his arms around him in comfort. That always seemed to make him feel better.

Al set whatever text he was reading down and gave a silent sigh. It would have been far too easy to have his stupid brother follow Roy home. Ed did have a flare for complicating situations with little effort.

"Well then, do you at least know where he is?"

"No," Mustang replied, "But Hughes there does, don't you?"

A small smile graced the now-awake sergeant's lips. "How'd you know I _wasn't_ sleeping?"

"Your breathing is hitching more than it would if you really were resting, Maes. Who did you happen to piss off enough for them to break your ribs?" Roy lowered the blanket after getting a glimpse of the battered chest with tightly wrapped bandages covering the purplish tint.

Maes shrugged, "I guess they got angry when I wouldn't tell them about what I knew of their little _'experiments'_."

"They?"

"The same ones that took Ed."

A fierce growl of, "_Who_ took Brother?" interrupted the interrogation.

Roy paled.

To _tell_ the protective sibling, or to keep it a secret?

Flames practically danced in the steely eyes glaring at Mustang and he felt the odd need to reply with the former.

But Hughes beat him to it.

"Some sick people. And from what I understand, you should know them too, Al."

The boy paused. He couldn't recall knowing any people like that, or anyone that had taken Ed away from him, right?

"Why would Alphonse know them?"

Hughes answered Roy's question but kept his eyes on Al the entire time. "Far as I know, they took him _with_ Ed."

He didn't even hear the comment made, for he was already searching his memories until something drifted forward.

'_Come on, Al. Run faster!'_

'_Oww… Brother, help me, I can't get up.'_

Wait a minute.

'_The alarm's going. We have to hurry.'_

'_Wait Ed, what about you?'_

'_Never mind. Just get out of here, run to our hideout and stay hidden!'_

Where was all of this coming from?

_Guards gripped the hands and pulled them behind his back, forcing him down onto the floor._

_He looked back and screamed. _

'_Brother!'_

_Panicked golden eyes flashed up violently, 'Get out of here Alphonse!'_

_The younger lingered in the windowsill, crying when a large tranquilizer needle was pushed into the left leg._

'_RUN!'_

_He ran._

Al's head snapped back up as Mustang shook his shoulder gently to get his attention.

"Do you remember anything of yours or Ed's childhood?" Maes repeated once the boy was listening again. Even though he hadn't missed the shocked look on the pale face. He knew the answer to his question was affirmative. But he needed specifics.

"Yeah, I do. Brother was never there. I _used_ to be with him, but he got me _out_ of there, and I can't remember anything before that."

"What are you talking about, Al?" Roy's brow furrowed in confusion, he was completely out of the strange loop the other two were speaking of.

"Roy, they performed experiments where I was taken. Experiments on _children_." Hughes replied.

"You're kidding me… Then _Edward_ was-?"

"Exactly. I read some reports about the place from our headquarters. Apparently, Ed was the subject they worked the _most_ on. From the sounds of those files, it was like they were trying to create an alternate personality to use for military purposes. And the police force was tied in it, funding all they needed," Maes sat up carefully, wary of his protesting injuries and tried to smooth his bed-hair. "What's even more curious was that one of the primary experimenters came to police headquarters every week. Julia Douglas."

Roy swallowed thickly. No wonder Edward's mind was so messed up then and now. Pride must have been that alternate personality they were trying to create. But what kind of sick fucks would do that to anyone, much less a child. If he had first met Ed back when he was ten, how old would he have been when all _that_ occurred?

The mere thought made his stomach twist.

"So then how did you get out of there?" Did Edward- no, not Ed, -Pride help Hughes like Roy had requested?

"Regardless of everything they must have put that kid through after he was taken there, he was the one that came back and got me out. He just-"

_-pulled the burly man's arm over his shorter shoulder, carrying most of the weight slung over him and trudged forward._

'_Ed, where are you taking me?' Hughes asked with disinterest as his head lolled to the side and clunked it accidentally against a blonde head._

'_I told you, my name's Pride!' The boy hissed, turning a corner to a secluded hallway. 'You told me to find Roy. And I did. He said to get you out of here. So that's what I'm doing.'_

'_Do you just follow whatever anyone commands?' The injured man slurred, wanting to say that he looked like an innocent puppy, obeying people's wishes._

'_That's what I'm supposed to do.'_

_Pride hoisted Hughes up onto a sturdy pipe off of the ground and held his back to keep him on it._

_Maes clumsily grasped onto the window ledge._

'_Can you climb out on your own?'_

'_Yeah. I think so.'_

_He looked back slowly at the black figure running away from sight. The kid had said he had to get back to his Master quickly. Was that where he was going?_

_No matter._

_Hughes groaned as he pulled his body up and out of the window. His mangled frame inside was screaming with each bare movement._

_Thank heaven he was coherent enough to remember the way to Roy's house._

_For other than the man himself, there was sure to be bandages, food, water, and Aspirin._

_He became unconscious at the doorstep, where-_

"-Al kindly put me back together."

Roy thought for a moment then wandered to his kitchen for some of that coffee he had desired previously. Hell, he'd prefer vodka or some form of alcohol, but his getting drunk would hardly help them.

He stopped in front of the main door when he heard a faint clicking on the other side.

Not wanting to startle what was outside his humble abode, and hoping that he was mistaken, Mustang tentatively set down his steaming mug on the floor.

Unarmed, he opened the door a crack, silently at first, but with a fierce slam at the end.

Cool night air greeted him along with his front yard.

And suddenly he was forced back with a strong kick to his stomach.

He _hated _being right.

Roy landed on his tailbone painfully. Grabbing his neglected cup, he threw it at whoever was approaching him.

The attacker cried out from the heat penetrating his delicate eyes and randomly fired a shot with his previously concealed gun.

Mustang's beloved microwave, where he prepared all of his meals, went on the fritz with little blue bolts of electricity falling around it.

Talking the opportunity of his opponent's momentary blindness, Roy launched himself at the other, knocking the surprisingly shorter man over backwards.

He struggled to get the firearm away from the gloved hand and ended up grabbing a fistful of the coat underneath him.

In horror, he looked down.

It was _his_ jacket, the one he had given Ed to wear.

Strong gloved hands wretched away from his grasp and the other reared onto his haunches, prepared to spring.

_This couldn't be…_

Roy stared for a third time in his life into his lover's fierce golden eyes as the blonde tried to kill him.

"Edward," He whispered lightly.

"What's going on in there?" Mustang heard Hughes' shout from the adjacent room, and he had half a mind to shout back for them to stay in there.

"_Brother_?"

Too late.

Alphonse stared at the feral image of his brother, gun in hand, glaring at Roy, looking as though he wanted to rip the older man's throat out. His eyes were that frightening dark gold with no recognition that Al remembered so well.

"Brother, what are you _doing_?"

Pride looked to the one speaking and somewhere deep within his mind a scream rang out.

'_Don't you touch my little brother! Get away from them!'_

He ignored it.

This man was supposed to be alone. That was what Pride was told.

He glared at the two men staring at him, one disbelievingly, the other with pained eyes.

Why did they cause such a longing ache in his chest? Why did he want nothing more than to run and curl up in both of their arms?

Pride did the only thing he could think of in this familiar yet new situation.

_He fled._

"Brother!" Al cried out as Pride sped away down the alley.

Mustang dragged himself to his feet and stopped Alphonse from chasing after him.

"Stay here with Hughes. I'll go after him."

Before Al had time to protest at being left out of the same thing a second time, he was alone standing in an open doorway.

_Be careful_, he wanted to call out.

* * *

Roy chased after the blonde blur speeding down a back alley.

His target wildly turned left, losing a fraction of his speed, and allowing the predator to gain a few inches of closeness.

He had no idea where Edward was going. All he knew was that he had to keep up this pace, had to keep running, and had to catch him eventually.

A basket ball court came into his vision.

Pride dashed madly up to the chain link fence surrounding it, scaled to the top, dropped to the pavement, and looked back to see if that insane man was still following him.

_He was._

In fright Pride scrambled away as the man copied his quick actions. He made it to the opposite wall of the court.

_The man was coming closer._

Why couldn't he just kill the guy like his Master commanded? He _supposed _to follow commands, it was the _only_ reason he existed. Then why couldn't he just turn and pull the trigger?

Roy panted in relief of the short break. The blonde was cornered, there was no place that he could run or hide.

Unfortunately, Mustang hadn't had the time or decency to plan what he was going to do once he caught Ed.

The golden eyes stared at him in panic, hands rising shakily equipped with a gun.

Feeling a little unsure of how safe that was, Roy stepped a bit closer and the hands noticeably raised higher, already in the proper shooting position.

Should he continue, or back off?

If he continued, Ed could fire at himself like last time, but if he backed off, Ed may get away.

So, he remained rooted where he was.

"Shoot me." He commanded. Sanity was _not_ a question at this point.

The hands shook more violently, steadied briefly, then reverted back to trembling.

His mind told him to fire; his Master told him to fire, his supposed prey told him to fire. But his _heart_ told him to throw down the gun.

He did.

The weapon fell from his fingertips, clattering to the ground with a loud clank.

Roy moved quickly and kicked it away, out of reach to either of them.

It probably would have been smart to pick it up himself and gain the upper hand. At least, that's what his police instincts screamed at him to do.

Instead, he swiftly moved directly in front of the distressed boy and wrapped his arms around the lithe body tightly, before Ed could protest.

Pride stiffened at the contact, wanting nothing more than to slither away.

But, if that was so, why was he pressing his cheek into the strong chest? Why were tears rolling down his cheeks?

"I should have known that you were too _spineless_ to follow through with a simple order."

Pride looked in abject horror as Envy leaned out of a car door on the road across from them and revealed the same type of gun Pride used to have.

The barrel pointed at Roy's back.

**Bang.**

He was pushed aside before he even had a chance to comprehend what was happening. Mustang heard tires squeal and his head whipped over to a black vehicle speeding away.

What was that noise before then?

He turned to see Edward fly back onto the paved ground, unsettled dust flowing up in clouds around him.

_A gunshot._

His faltered steps crept up to the still body cautiously, not quite sure if either of them were breathing. They quickly broke out into a rush when he realized that no, Ed's chest was not rising and falling as it _should_ be.

He fell to his knees and cradled the blonde head, loose hair tickling his arm.

The lips were turning purple, the skin was white under tear stains, and the eyes were unblinking, frozen in shock.

Edward's hands were cold.

They were _cold_.

No matter how many of Roy's own salty and warm tears fell onto the hand he grasped and pressed to his lips, they remained cold.

**Cold.**

* * *

_AN: I have been dying to write this chapter from the beginning. I know, it sounds a little sadistic. But hey, I am the author, and sadly, I have that authority. _


	14. Memories

_**Memories-**_

Do you regret the time we've spent together?

I don't.

Me neither. Only I wish that…

That, what?

That it could have been longer.

_He made his usual rounds, gave out a lovely parking ticket, picked up coffee for the day, saved a daring kitten from a tree. Although, wasn't the fire department supposed to do that? Yes, or so he thought._

_Captain Mustang of Central's police force was currently questioning his sanity._

_It had been a normal day at the office, his subordinate, Riza Hawkeye, delivered papers for his signing as per usual. Maes Hughes burst into his personal room at thirty minute intervals, flashing pictures of his 'adorably cute daughter that looked just like her mother and already was inheriting her sense of style because she-'. At which time, an irritated Roy Mustang would threaten to purchase a flame torch on his lunch break (not that he ever followed through with the bluff), and the disgruntled Sergeant left only to pop back in spontaneously._

_Sure, the distraction from tedious and repetitive signing of his overused name was amicable. However, it got to the point where Roy knew Elicia Hughes better than himself._

_So, being trained in boot camp for weeks, the elusive high ranking officer snuck out of the hell hole, dubbed his office, and went about the town. Strictly on police business of course._

_As aforementioned, he wrote out a parking ticket for a short old lady for backing her minivan in the handicapped parking space. All the while ignoring her completely unnecessary cussing towards his bastard self._

_And understandably was in need of some sort of fix after such an event._

_It was only half past noon, so drinking was out of the question._

_Roy sipped his hot cup of coffee, walking down some odd street he had never travelled through, until he heard a cry of distress._

'_Al… I _told_ you to hold onto her!'_

_He was standing in front of a meat shop, and using his snoopy intuition he wafted past the thick shrubs and other prickly plants protecting the fortress. Ignoring the obnoxious beeping of his pager (damn Hawkeye!), he pressed on. Until he came to a strangely domestic sight._

_Two boys were hovering around the base of a tall maple tree, where in the highest of reachable places a tiny black kitten meowed._

"_Well, we can't just stand here. Teacher isn't home either." The child with a brighter shade of blonde hair mumbled before puffing out his chest courageously, pointing to the distressed feline and declaring, "Go get her, Al!"_

_The other, obviously 'Al', whimpered a squeal from behind. "Are you crazy Brother? There's no way I'm climbing up there. You get her-" He shoved his brother closer to the formidable tree's bark. "-you're the one who wanted to bring her outside!"_

_Roy watched the exchange with some amusement, unaware of the golden eyes suspiciously leering at him._

"_Hey, _you_! Old man!" The elder brother shouted as Mustang turned to look at the midget. "Yeah, I'm talking to you. _You_ go up and get the cat."_

_Roy looked up the tree, reaching higher than the shop behind them, and bluntly replied._

"_No."_

"_What? Why not? You scared or something?" The blonde seethed._

_Al sighed, "Edward, leave the guy alone."_

"_No, why should I? He's a _policeman_, Al. He's supposed to do this kind of stuff."_

_Roy smirked and leaned against the fence, "I see." He gazed up at the thick branches with leaves blowing in the wind. "A shrimp _would_ have problems getting up there."_

_The younger sibling, experiencing this same thing time and time again, wisely hooked his elbows under Edward's arms while the blonde screeched. "Who are you calling a shrimp, you freakishly tall bastard that's too afraid to climb up a tree because it's bigger than him?"_

"_You. It's your problem, you deal with it."_

_Edward fumed silently. Then a very sly smile worked its way onto his face and he stopped struggling upon release._

"_He's right, Alphonse. I'll go up and get it. He would be too… _useless_."_

_And so, in a matter of minutes, Roy was swaying in the breeze some feet up in the air, trying to retrieve a hissing beast. He glared in spite of the grin he knew was on the shrimp's face._

_Three scratches and a bruise later, he descended._

_He handed the kitten back to a happy Alphonse who immediately began to smother it and assured a returning Izumi Curtis that it was no trouble at all._

_Edward smiled and agreed, "Thanks, bastard."_

_Mustang smirked back when the blonde was smacked lightly on the back of his head with a warning for his language._

_Thus, Roy Mustang became acquainted with Edward Elric, who would change his life forever. And not to a happily ever after ending like in those romance stories._

What are you thinking about?

Hmm? Oh, nothing much. Just wondering if this is really such a good idea.

Edward, if you're not sure…

No! I am. But-

Don't worry, it'll be fine. You trust me, right?

… Yeah, I do.

_Pouring rain engulfed the streets, as it had been for the past three days, restricting people to indoors unless it was a dire emergency. Roy was one of those people._

_He stared out his main window with a bored look. Each drop of water only posed to irritate him that much more. Upon his musings concerning really nothing at all, the sight of a shuffling red blob caught his attention._

_The washed out being halted at his door and rapped on the wood surface twice._

_Naturally, Mustang knew who would be calling at such a ridiculous time of night._

_He opened the door with an ever present smirk, and Edward entered his house and plopped into one of his kitchen chairs. Not at all bothering to remove his mud caked boots or his dripping coat. A trail of dirt and slosh remained in his wake._

_Roy sighed, grabbing a spare rag, wiping up the trails as best he could. How could someone so tiny make such a mess? _

_He was about to ask that question, until he came to sit by the teen and took a look at his face._

"_What's wrong?"_

_Ed's face was wet with something that Roy suspected wasn't rain drops, his nose and eyes were an unhealthy red and to be blunt, he looked like shit._

_Not that Mustang would ever dare to say so._

"_It's my mom."_

_His mother? Roy had only been acquainted with the older Elric for a couple of years, but in that time, he had heard nothing of his parents. All he knew was that Edward and Alphonse were living with Mrs. Curtis until they turned sixteen. He had assumed that the parents either abandoned the two or were already dead._

"_Teacher got a call from someone mom knew, and they said she died."_

"_Oh… I'm sor-"_

"_You're sorry?" Ed huffed with sarcasm. "Why should you be sorry? You didn't know her and neither did I. It doesn't even matter."_

_Roy kept quiet until more tears slipped from the golden eyes._

"_It does matter. She was still your mother." He placed a comforting hand on the small shoulder. But, he wasn't prepared for Edward to cling to his neck._

"_I know. Why didn't she ever visit us? I can't even remember what she looked like. Dad had no pictures of her, and he acted like she did not exist."_

_Mustang pulled the soaked lump of cloth onto his lap, stroking the plastered hair._

"_Where is your father then?"_

"_I don't know. He used to visit Al and me at Teacher's once in a while. But, once we heard about mom, Teacher can't get any contact with him."_

_Needless to say, Roy spent the rest of a storming night holding a gorgeous blonde. Too young for him, but desirable all the same._

How come you never smile?

What do you mean? I smile…

No you don't, Roy. You grin and smirk, but you never smile.

… Maybe I have nothing to smile about.

I get it. You have nothing to be happy about!

That's not what I said.

Yeah it is if you have nothing to smile about, then what the hell am I doing here? You'd be better off without me.

No. Without you I'd always be frowning.

… Stupid bastard.

_Roy was pursuing one of his favorite hobbies, which was pursuing one Edward Elric. Not in the romantic sense, but an actual game of pursuit._

_He came upon said blonde, standing on the corner doing one of the things that Roy hated most._

"_Ed, you best put that out before I take it away." He warned._

"_Wow. Don't you sound like such a tough cop? Bet you can't even back your bold claims up." Ed grinned and took another drag off the cancer stick._

_Roy's nose unconsciously wrinkled from the stench. "You know I don't like you doing that."_

"_Well I suggest you get used to it. I'm stressed out and I need to calm down." The sixteen year old paused thoughtfully, "How about this: I'll stop smoking when you quit drinking. Fair enough."_

"_Stressed out, huh?" Roy sceptically asked._

"_Yes, idiot, that's what I said."_

"_What could you possibly have to be stressed out about? Are you finally beginning to realize just how much of a shrimp you are?"_

_When no reply came and Ed went silent, Mustang bit his tongue to demand what was wrong. Instead he pulled the teen down the sidewalk to a smoothie stand. He plucked the stick out from Ed's mouth._

"_You're too young to be doing this."_

_Edward sipped the strawberry drink Roy thrust into his hands and grinned._

"_You just called yourself old."_

_As Roy rolled his eyes at the juvenile antics Ed smiled. He hated strawberries, but somehow, they didn't taste so bad anymore. Especially when Roy kissed him for the first time like that._

Edward, why do you hate your father?

He left us.

Are you sure of that?

Of course I am.

What if he had a good reason for leaving?

… Then I'd still hate him. I'd hate you too if you left me.

That's not nice.

Don't care.

Well, for what it's worth, I wouldn't hate you if you left me.

_He was charged with shooting a sixteen year old kid, pleading that he thought the teen was a burglar. At the same time, he fought not to think of the gun that was pointed towards him turning to fire at his blonde._

_Demoted, broken and too damn hurt to care, Roy wanted so badly to indulge in the liquor before him._

_Edward was gone, he hadn't heard from the kid for weeks._

_How was he to know that he wouldn't see that bright smile for years to come? If he had known, he'd have taken a snapshot to remember it and the owner by._

_He quit drinking._

_He didn't hate Ed._

_No, he couldn't hate him._

_Not when he loved him so much._

_And for years, he spent his nights without alcohol, wishing that he had taken the courage and extra moment out of his time to tell the blonde just how much he loved him._

"_Do you regret the time we've spent together?" Edward asked as he lay back on the strong chest and arms held him there securely._

"_I don't."_

"_Me neither. Only I wish that…" The boy trailed off quietly with a sad look on his face. He burrowed his head into the junction of Roy's neck and shoulder._

_Mustang tried to pull him back to see his face and he wanted to ask what was wrong. "That, what?" Why hadn't Ed finished his thought?_

_Suddenly, the blonde pulled away from Roy with a large smile on his face and said that it didn't matter._

'_Only I wish that it could have been longer.'_

Roy held Edward's head in his lap and knew what the boy had wanted to say then.

"Me too Ed, me too."

* * *

_AN: I wasn't going to go into how they met and all that jazz. But, this was just too fun to write, that I couldn't resist. Thank you to all reviewers and readers, I hope you look forward to the next chapter!_


	15. Gateway

_**Gateway-**_

'_I've had enough of this. It has to stop.'_

'_What are you saying? You can't possibly want to abandon what we've spent _years_ building upon!'_

'_Yes, I do. Infact, I think we should never have started this project. It would be wise to quit while we are ahead.'_

'_Hoenheim!'_

'_I'm sorry, Trisha…'_

'_You dare call me that pathetic woman's name?'_

'_Dante. I was not speaking to you. Trisha, I've ruined our lives and am regretting it all the more each moment-'_

'_Shut up…'_

'_- I did something horrible to you, and I can never take it back. All I can hope is that you will forgive me-'_

'_Be _quiet_.'_

'_- so that I can forgive myself. I should have just left you, instead of dragging you to hell with me-'_

'Silence_!'_

'_- I'm sorry.'_

-------------

Biting cold winds nipped at his fingertips, stealing away whatever heat he had managed to gather. Hands tightly gripped onto the smooth fabric covering small shoulders and had been doing so quite desperately. His vice grip clamped down as a light shudder ripped through his chest. How he wished it had been from the cold.

Roy looked down at the pale face and wondered with a strange calmness why Edward's teeth were gritting. Could he perhaps feel the chill too?

No, dead people didn't feel.

They also didn't shiver.

It was likely his own grip causing the corpse to shake in his harsh grasp as his own body, raked from something other than cold, shook uncontrollably.

He was not sure how long he had stayed sitting on the freezing pavement, holding a warm body brokenly.

Was his own body heat flowing into Edward like his tears had? The thought seemed oddly out of place, romantic in a way. That he was unconsciously trying to bring what was dead back to life. Even though he knew such a feat could not be accomplished by any man, he wished it was.

He would give anything: his limbs, his eyes, his heart, his soul.

But he did know that not matter how hard he tried, he couldn't tear himself away. Not with Ed's hand gripping at his arm like that.

It made sense, that the muscles would clamp onto his and stay contracted.

He paused.

Dead people didn't move, _did_ they?

The movements stopped abruptly and Mustang sighed with defeat. So was that it? The great Roy Mustang was determined to imagine his lover being alive when he was very much in fact, dead?

He was going into denial, trying to cover up what he could not accept at the moment with something he could understand.

Logic.

Each time Ed looked to be alive, he would logically explain to himself why he wasn't.

He heard a faint cough and shook his head.

Yes, it was sadly true. Now he was even hearing things.

The coughs became fiercer in density and sounded so dry.

Things that refused to stay silent, even in his mind. He hoped this-

More hallucinated sounds of Ed trying to clear his windpipe. An arm weakly tried to push the body off of Roy's lap. He tightened his hold on it reflexively, not thinking too much of the action.

-wasn't going to continue for the rest of his adult life. It was far too early to claim he was hearing voices.

It was funny.

He was about to begin laughing but…

Edward's dead and lifeless body rolled out of his arms reach and began violently coughing like its life depended on it.

Each shuddering breath he drew in erupted into worse as bile rose from his stomach. He spat it onto the pavement, shaking on his hands and knees.

He heard a voice calling his name in disbelief and he honestly tried to answer.

A rasping squeak came out instead. He frowned, that didn't sound like his voice.

"Edward! H-How… what did you?"

_Cat got your tongue? _He wanted to ask. However, when he found he couldn't, Edward gave up and flopped down onto his back, wishing that his chest would stop hurting so much.

Roy's hands grabbed at the painful area and he was sure he heard a wheezy, _'Fuck off' _come from the not-so-blue lips.

There was no blood, no wound, and no mar on the skin he exposed hastily.

As Ed squirmed under the probing touch a heavy clunk resounded on the cement. A pocket watch fell from the coat's breast pocket, with a bullet embedded deeply inside of the center.

----------

'_I thought you didn't believe in giving Christmas presents, Edward?'_

'_I don't.'_

'_Then why,' Roy inquired, gesturing to the package that was carelessly placed into his lap moments ago, 'did you give me this?'_

'_Because I knew you would be a bastard about this stupid season and get me a present that I didn't want but that I would like.'_

'_Most people would call that thoughtful.'_

'_Yeah, well I'm not most people,' Ed mumbled and snuggled into the fuzzy blanket of a present that he really didn't want to accept, but lacked the energy to give back._

_Mustang snorted lightly._

_He opened the meticulously wrapped paper with tape sticking out at odd ends and blinked at the contents._

'_A pocket watch?' He asked while opening the lid and toying with the chain. 'How oddly thoughtful of you.'_

'_There's a difference between being fashionably late and just plain late, and you, Mustang, are unable to tell the difference and lump the two together.' Edward grinned, 'Now when you choose to be tardy I can call you on it with proof.'_

He had kept it inside of his jacket pocket, still using it all these years later.

Fighting the urge to thank someone that it had managed to be there to catch the bullet, lessen the impact, and merely seem like an intense blow to the blonde's chest cavity, he instead turned to the body still on the ground.

Edward, Roy noticed had passed out and he proceeded to carry the uninjured body back to somewhere where they could think. Think and plan something.

He hoped Ed would have some answers for the blanks that had yet to be filled.

----------

Edward blinked sleepily, nearly jumping out of his skin as his eyes focused on a face peering not four inches from his own nose. He panted heavily and gripped the area near his heart.

"Don't _do_ that…"

What, was this stupid kid _trying_ to kill him?

Ignoring his companion, Ed took in his surroundings of an area that was endlessly black. Yet somehow the two of them remained illuminated by a non-existent light. He expected some creepy twilight music to start playing.

But when none did he looked back at the kid, dressed in a tank top and what looked like a skirt, brushing imaginary dust off of his rear end. Courtesy of being thrown backwards by Ed's violent shove upon awakening.

Edward gaped.

That wasn't a kid… It was him! An exact copy of him, as if he were merely looking into a mirror.

Though he hoped more emotion came onto his face and that he didn't look so zombie-like.

"_You're awake, so does that mean we are still alive?" _Clone-boy asked.

"Don't say _'we' _like that," He hissed. "I am me and you are not. You'll never be like me."

"_But I am you." _The other countered.

"In your dreams. I'd never kill someone." And he is unwillingly bombarded with images of blood and knives and guns and hears a sadistic voice whispering into his ear. The voice calls him _Pride_.

"_Not even if it was to protect someone else?"_

"…"

A ghost of a smile hinted briefly on Pride's blue lips.

_Smug bastard._

Edward conceded him the point and began wandering around aimlessly, noting with slight fear that no matter how far away he moved, Pride was still the exact distance in front of him as a moment before.

"Where am I, anyway," He asked while giving up on looking for a way out.

Pride pointed to a large set of wood doors that seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Suddenly, the darkness faded away to a blinding golden light and Edward squinted.

"What is that?"

"_The Gate," _Pride replied.

"Well no shit!" Ed yelled. "I can see that it's a gate, thank you very much. I'm asking what the hell it is."

Pride, still emotionless (and un-angered by the childish and panicky outburst) stood behind it.

"_It's a Gate to what you have forgotten."_

"… Forgotten?"

Nodding, he moved to the side so Edward could see only his shadow playing across the front.

"_Memories that you couldn't handle and that I put in here."_

"Why would you do that?"

Pride sighed, _"You created me to help deal with everything being shoved onto you. You thought that by doing so, whenever a situation became to rough you could switch over to my more, apathetic, personality and that I would deal with whatever the garbage was. You never realized that was what they wanted though."_

"Who?"

"_Do you really want to know?" _He asked, coming around and placing his hand on the large handle. _"Are you sure you want to see what happened on those nights?"_

"Yes."

Pride opened the doors.

----------

"I've had enough of this. It has to stop." The man turned to the woman in a lab coat at his side, the light reflecting form his glasses and he glared for all he was worth. A glare that was meant to be unquestioning. But that face she wore, the mask that lay on top of her cruel and twisted soul haunted him into an unconscious retreat.

"What are you saying?" She whispered breathily. "You can't possibly want to abandon what we've spent _years_ building upon!" Her hands flew dramatically as she spoke, _hands that were not hers_, he noted.

"Yes, I do. Infact, I think we should never have started this project," He ignored her audible gasp of disbelief. "It would be wise to quit while we are ahead." _Before something worse happens_, he added silently.

"Hoenheim!" Shrieking his name partly from rage and partly from fear, she stilled in a flinch when his large hand rested on her narrow shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Trisha…" He stated, gazing into her eyes. Eyes that were once so warm, feeling and loving. The proof of her change before his own sight only served to deepen the sorrow he felt.

"You dare call me that pathetic woman's name?" She wrenched his hand off of her.

"Dante. I was not speaking to _you_," Hoenheim's voice hissed. "Trisha, I've ruined our lives and am regretting it all the more each moment-"

"Shut up…" Dante clasped her hands over her ears, trying to shield the words that were piercing her heart. Or rather, the other heart within her.

"-I did something horrible to you, and I can never take it back. All I can hope is that you will forgive me-" He pulled on a grey coat as he spoke.

"Be _quiet_."

"-so that I can forgive myself. I should have just left you, instead of dragging you to hell with me-" He headed for the door, grasping its handle and preparing to open and leave.

"_Silence_!" She became unaware (yet so aware) of the paperweight clenched beneath her fingertips.

"- I'm sorry."

He had no time to react as she approached him from behind and swung.

A few hits later, crimson liquid pooling under his head, Hoenheim could think of only one thing. The thought repeated in his mind al thousand times over, consuming the time of a second.

And as he lay, nervous system horribly jumbled, he wondered if she forgave him for what he had done to her, and to their sons.

* * *

_AN: After not updating for… a while I was guilted into typing this up from reading some of the reviews. If the writing seems a bit odd, as I thought it did, please disregard it as my lack of working on this story for so long._


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